Never Again
by ParisianNights
Summary: When danger threatens, Harry finds himself in the care of his least favourite person: Snape. However, when Harry slowly starts to trust the man, neither of them are in for an easy ride —- A mentor fic. AU, fifth year  .
1. prologue

**Authors Note – **When I first joined, I was actually rather disappointed to have nothing to publish. But I wanted to wait until I had an idea of what I wanted to write before I started and I wanted it to be something I could put my heart into - something I really wanted to write. So, it's been a few months but here it is! My first piece. I really hope you enjoy it, and it would honestly make my day if you left me a review.

I'm going to say here and now, just to avoid any confusion later on, this will not be a slash fic.

**Disclaimer – **not mine, as disappointing as that fact is.

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><p><strong>Never Again<br>**_Prologue_

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><p>Number twelve Grimmauld Place was as unwelcoming as ever, Severus Snape observed as he crossed the threshold. It wasn't simply because the old house was the current home to his current arch nemesis, Sirius Black, but the hallway smelt musty and damp, Severus' footsteps causing clouds of dust to rise from the grey carpets. It appeared that the cleaning efforts of Mrs Weasley had not yet reached the hall, Snape thought as he made his way towards the stairs to the kitchen. It was unlikely, in his opinion, that the ancient house would ever be fit to live in.<p>

As soon as he was half way down the flight of steps, the noise hit him. It sounded like a meal in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, judging from the sheer volume, although Snape knew that it was only the Weasley family and assorted Order members in there. He felt his top lip curl at the thought of them all sitting safely there, no worries about safety, no anxious waiting for a summons that could come at any time, no stress of maintaining strong mind shields...

The noise, however, dropped as soon Snape entered the basement kitchen, his robes billowing behind him. The older children and most of the adults present didn't stare but Black and a lot of the younger teens gaped at him, mouths hanging open. Snape felt his gaze settle on Potter, who was seated between Granger and the Weasley girl, opposite Black. His green gaze betrayed the shock he was feeling and Snape could tell he would demand to know why Snape was there. Potter had always been so predictable, Snape mused, whilst noticing the boys pale face and the way his scar stood out against his white forehead.

The foolish child had probably been up until all hours, Severus observed as he noticed the dark smudges under Harry's eyes, indicating fatigue. He must been fooling around with Weasley and his godfather, not caring about the fact he has been using magic outside of school and breaking one of the most important laws. He had always shown little regard to rules, just like his father before him...

Snape's train of thought was interrupted by Molly Weasley descending on him and shunting him towards the table, despite Severus' fierce glower.

"Sit down, Severus, have some food... We've got plenty and you're early – Dumbledore won't be here for another hour or so," Molly told him, piling a plate high with roasted chicken and vegetables, placing it in front of him. "Help yourself to bread and something to drink."

"Dumbledore told me the meeting started at six," Snape said to her in a low voice, irritation colouring his tone. He had a long list of potions that needed brewing for Voldemort, and he would be most displeased if Snape didn't get them done. An extra hour in his lab, working on them, could have done him the world of good but no, thanks to Dumbledore Snape is stuck at Grimmauld Place with some of the most loathsome people in the world. This thought makes irritation prickle beneath Severus' skin.

Molly only clucked sympathetically as she bustled away, her attention diverted to her two twins, who were clearly planning something with Mundungus Fletcher. Severus scowled as he stabbed his fork viciously into his dinner. It didn't stop him from lifting a slice of chicken to his mouth, however. Sometimes, with so much pressure, Severus didn't have time for things like meals. Unhealthy, he knew, but there were other things of more importance. Yet the smell of Molly's cooking had awaked his sense of hunger and he was content to eat as long as no one tried to involve him in any kind of conversation with him, especially not one of his students.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to rapidly lose his appetite, pushing his plate away. Severus noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye, unwillingly wondering what the boy was up to now. He also seemed to think that Severus was deaf, judging from the way he leant into Granger and over the table to Weasley number six.

"What's Snape doing here?" Harry asked, causing Severus' hand to clench into a fist under the table. He had to take a deep breath before spearing a carrot, fighting the urge to make a sarcastic remark at the boy. Did the child really think that he would just not come to headquarters because he was also a Death Eater? Or maybe Potter had simply _forgotten_ that Severus was fighting on Dumbledore's side too?

"He's a member of the Order, Harry," Hermione replied, in a far lower voice than Harry. Severus had to strain to listen, uncaring of the fact he had stooped as low to eavesdrop on the trio's conversation. "Why wouldn't he be here?" Her tone reminded Severus of Minerva slightly – he had to work to keep the smirk off of his face at this thought.

Just then, McGonagall herself arrived, wearing a green Muggle dress. Most of the current Hogwarts students started at seeing their head of house dressed in this fashion and, Severus did have to admit, he had been most amused the first time he had seen her without her usual pointed hat. He hadn't, however, gaped as much as Harry and Ron were. Anyone would have thought that Minerva had grown an extra head.

"Oh, good, Severus, you're here," were the first words that left her mouth as she headed directly for him. She shook her head at Molly's offer of food, sinking into the empty chair besides the Potions Master and leaning in so that no one could overhear their conversation. "Albus thought you might have been summoned by You Know Who."

"No," Severus said with a frown, pushing his half-empty plate away from him so that he could face McGonagall properly. "I haven't received anything – my mark hasn't even tingled. Why did he think that?"

"I didn't ask," McGonagall admitted, shooting a worried glance in Harry's direction. "Sometimes it's best not to with Albus, unless you want some confusing riddle or obscure Muggle quote thrown at you." Severus nodded at this, not interrupting so that McGonagall could continue. "He seemed to think he was rallying his followers."

"Possibly only those he needed," Severus murmured, more to himself than to his colleague. He took another sip of water, wondering why Voldemort hadn't called Severus to his side. It made him distinctly uneasy that he may have fallen out of the favour of the Dark Lord, which could prove fatal.

Severus allowed his gaze to wander down the table, taking note of who was present. Apart from Potter and his ever-present friends and irritating godfather, Lupin, Tonks, Mundungus Fletcher and all of the Weasley family – with the exception of Percy – were there. So they were only waiting on Dumbledore and Shacklebolt, Severus thought. He sighed as he turned back to McGonagall, a question ready on his lips when the door banged once again.

Dumbledore strode in and Severus saw a look of surprise briefly cross the Headmaster's face. So, Dumbledore wasn't expecting his presence at the meeting either. Severus raised an eyebrow calmly, clasping his hands on the tabletop.

"You're early, Professor!" Molly cried as Dumbledore descended into the kitchen, his lavender robes floating behind him. "Eat quickly, quickly, we need to have this meeting, Fred, George, will you take the children upstairs..."

"Now, now, Molly," Dumbledore said with a serene smile, taking a seat at the head of the table. "Let everyone finish their dinner before we begin."

Ron took this as an excuse to tear another chunk of bread from the loaf in the middle and conversation resumed. Dumbledore smiled at the way Ginny leaned against Harry, her eyes heavy with tiredness, before turning to Severus with a look of bemused interest upon his features. He begins to construct steeples with his fingers before he speaks.

"So, Severus, you have not received a call from Voldemort?" Dumbledore's tone was polite and neutral, a little like he was enquiring about the weather. Severus glowered at him, his face twisting at this ridiculous question.

"Would I be here if I had, Albus?" Severus shot back, his tone icy.

Before Dumbledore could respond in any way, a white Patronus in the shape of a lynx bounded into the room, through the heavy stone walls. It landed in front of Dumbledore to deliver the message in Kingsley's deep, reassuring voice that, for the first time in Severus' memory, betrayed a hint of fear.

"Albus, Voldemort knows the location of Headquarters and he's sending Death Eaters. You all need to get out _now_ and-"

The rest of the message was lost as Severus, Arthur, Bill, Lupin, Sirius and McGonagall rose, the Patronus disappearing after a few seconds. At that moment, an almighty crash made the house tremble, the crockery sliding and several plates crashing from the table and to the floor. The second crash, moments after the first, was more violent and sent most of those still seated to the ground. Severus looked over at Harry quickly, checking that the boy wasn't doing anything rash. Knowing Potter, he would run into the street in some kind of _bravery _or an attempt to prove himself. Harry hadn't done anything reckless yet, however - he had his wand at the ready, and his other arm tightly around Ginny's shoulders. The girl no longer looked tired; her wand was out and they were both looking towards the door with wide eyes.

"They're trying to get through the wards, Albus," McGonagall said in horror, her knuckles becoming white as she clutched her wand.

"And they will succeed within several minutes," Dumbledore informed them. He had not drawn his wand as everyone else had; he was surveying the scene like one might look on at a Quidditch match. He didn't seem panicked but he couldn't be accused of being calm either.

"We need to get everyone out then!" Molly cried in horror, snapping to attention. Severus glanced at Dumbledore again, irritated by his lack of reaction. If the Death Eaters were going to descend surely he must show more emotion than _this_, especially since the precious Boy Who Lived was present.

"Indeed, Molly, we do," Dumbledore agreed and, if Severus hadn't know better, he would have said that the Headmaster found the situation slightly amusing. "Alright, then, everyone, we need to evacuate. But there is the, ah, _delicate_ issue that we cannot Apparate until the wards are down, so-"

He was cut off by several protests, all of them demanding to know how they would know _when_ the wards had been broken and _why_ they couldn't simply Disapparate. Another quake shook the house. The effect was instantaneous – Bill seized hold of Ginny, who looked upset to be parted from Harry, whilst adults took hold of their children in a similar fashion. Sirius had a tight grip on Harry's shoulder when Dumbledore shook his head, gently pulling Harry away from his godfather.

"I'm sorry, Sirius, but you need to go with Remus," Dumbledore informed him softly. "You're on the run – I can't risk you or Harry. Neither of you would be protected enough."

"But where will Harry go?" Sirius demanded, looking around. "You have all these plans in place, all the safe locations for everyone else, but what about my godson?" His anger made his voice rise and his eyes flash, giving him the impression of a mass murderer. Severus smirked at the fact that Sirius wasn't getting his own way until Dumbledore turned and propelled Harry towards him.

"Severus will take Harry," Dumbledore announced to the room. Ron and Hermione looked horrified and their expressions were mild compared to the ones worn by both Harry and Snape. Severus thought that Harry looked rather like a child who had been told that Christmas was cancelled although he knew he wasn't in any state to judge, as he was appalled as Harry was.

"Take the boy _where_, Albus?" Severus hissed at him, danger flashing in his eyes as yet another spell hit the wards and made a particularly violent tremor run through the house. A crack split the chimney breast accompanied by a crunching sound that made Hermione and Ginny shudder. Even Tonks clutched Hermione's shoulder a little tighter.

"To your home," Dumbledore informed him and there was definitely a smile on his face at this point.

"No!" Severus cried, realising belatedly that he and Harry had screamed the same thing at the same time. He shot a deadly look at the boy, warning him to be silent. Harry scowled back, folding his arms across his chest. "Headmaster, you cannot be serious," he implored Dumbledore, making no move towards Harry.

"On the contrary, Severus," Dumbledore said, pushing the stubborn teenager closer to the potions master. "I am completely serious. You are the person who can provide the best protection for Harry with the added bonus that no one will expect you to be caring for him given your difficult past."

Another, more violent, ripple tore through the house, all of the members in the kitchen lurching unsteadily. Harry staggered slightly, almost tripping over a chair, and Severus instinctively grabbed him by the back of his jacket. Harry coughed at the way the material caught at his throat and struggled to right himself before his air supply was cut off. Severus quickly release the boy, anxious not to keep a hold of him.

"They're almost through," Dumbledore observed, removing his wand from his sleeve. "You all know the emergency locations I gave to you in case of an emergency. Be ready to Apparate immediately."

"Please, Professor, think about this," Harry begged from where he stood, next to Severus. He looked at Dumbledore with wild eyes, but the Headmaster didn't meet his gaze and Severus didn't miss this fact. How odd, Severus thought, that Dumbledore wouldn't meet the gaze of his golden boy.

"Professor Snape will care for you, Harry," Dumbledore said, adjusting his robes and ignoring the distressed glances exchanged by Harry and Ron. "If you need anything at all, Severus, floo me. You know where to find me. And remember to set up some stronger wards around your home - stronger than what you already have."

Severus met Dumbledore's gaze, shaking with anger at the situation. How _dare_ Albus foist the Potter brat on him for the remainder of the summer? How _dare_ he? Severus had better things to do than to babysit the son of James Potter for Merlin's sake! However Dumbledore knew just how to convince Severus.

"For Lily," the Headmaster mouthed silently over Harry's head and Severus found himself clamping a hand down on Harry's shoulder with force. He saw Harry's open look of shock at this gesture but, wisely, chose not to comment. Severus felt his entire body tense as they waited, all of them standing rigid with a strong hold on their charges.

There was a loud crash upstairs – the door had been kicked in. Severus felt the magic of the wards dissolve, breaking like threads in a spiders web as the Death Eaters destroyed the protection that had been in place for years. He didn't know how they had managed to get through, as it should have been impossible, but Severus wasted no time by thinking of that. Immediately he spun on the spot, keeping firm hold of Harry as they Apparated away. Before they Disapparated from the kitchen, both of them heard a scream rip through the air before they were gone in a swirl of black robes.

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><p><strong>Authors Note (ii):<strong> So, this acts as a kind of prologue to the story. I hope you enjoyed it and I'd be ever so flattered if you liked it enough to favourite/alert, but please don't do so without leaving a review for me, please!


	2. Spinners End

**Authors Notes – **This is the first official chapter of Never Again! I apologise for the wait – I spent ten days in Paris visiting my older sister, and I didn't take my laptop. I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter, and I want to thank you for the wonderful reviews. I appreciate them all and, if I haven't replied to yours yet, it's the first thing I'm going to do tomorrow!  
>Please, please, please leave a review on this chapter and tell me what you thought! Also, please don't favouritealert without leaving a review, thank you very much!

**Disclaimer – **Disclaimed!

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><p><strong>Never Again<br>**_Chapter One – Spinners End_

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><p>Harry couldn't breathe. The only thing he was really aware of was the feeling of Snape clutching his shoulder in a vice-like grip but even that didn't feel secure, meaning Harry reached up and clung to Snape's wrist like his life depended on it. He felt like he was being suffocated, stuffed through a tube, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to get air into his lungs. Just as he felt that he couldn't take it anymore, cold air hit his face and his knees gave in.<p>

Severus let the boy fall to his knees, lifting his wand in case there were any Death Eaters lurking around the streets of Cokeworth. He muttered the _Lumos_ charm, his wand tip igniting and allowing him to ensure that there was no one lurking in the shadows. Despite the fact he couldn't see or detect anyone with magic, Severus was still uneasy.

"On your feet, Potter," he said sharply, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. It was already dark, despite it being only just past six in the evening. Harry only groaned, his head pounding and his stomach rebelling. He wouldn't be surprised if his dinner made another appearance but he could sense Snape's impatience, meaning he struggled to push himself to his feet. His legs felt boneless, making him unsteady and causing Severus to hiss impatiently. Harry found Severus' hand wrapped around his upper arm as the man marched him along the silent street.

"Who screamed?" Harry finally managed to ask, when he trusted himself to speak again. He was walking along the road in a manner that suggested he had consumed a bottle of Firewhiskey. Snape's grasp was uncomfortably tight and his strides were long, making it even harder for Harry to keep up.

"And how would I be able to answer that question, Potter?" Severus asked, a sneer in his tone. He didn't look at Harry – his gaze was darting from left to right in an attempt to ensure that there was no danger. "I seem to recall that I Apparated at the same time as you, meaning that I only know what _you_ know. Now be quiet, I cannot deal with your irritating questions right now."

Harry had the good sense to fall silent and allow his professor to tow him along a maze of streets. All of the houses were old, probably deserted, and it looked like no one had been in the area for years. A large mill loomed up behind them but Harry didn't ask Snape what it was, at the risk of Snape biting his head off. There was very little light, as most of the streetlights were either broken or flickering dangerously.

After five minutes, when Harry was wondering where they were heading to, Severus stopped abruptly and, after looking around once more, marched up to one of the derelict houses. He tapped the door handle once with his wand, making it glow blue for a second, before throwing it open and giving Harry a forceful shove into the house before Harry could open his mouth in protest.

The house was dark and there were cobwebs hanging in corners, from the lights and dust smeared every surface. The house looked as though it was barely lived it although, it had to be said, it looked far better than Grimmauld Place. The air was cold, although strangely enough, it wasn't musty. Harry tripped over a loose piece of carpet, which caused Severus to let out an irritated hiss, especially when Harry's shoulder collided with a bookshelf and sent a slim volume tumbling to the floor.

"Without destroying my house, if you will, Potter," Severus snapped, irritated at the boy already. He turned sharply, standing on the doorstep and lifting his wand to the sky. Harry watched with interest, lurking in the shadows of the hall as Snape began to murmur spells under his breath. Silver light streamed from the wand tip, drifting up to the sky in a similar manner to cigarette smoke, until it suddenly appeared to solidify. A protective bubble seemed to form around the house, Harry watching in fascination as silver-green threads drifted to the ground. The pavement and grass glowed for a minute before the light faded as though it had never been there.

Severus lowered his wand, staring into the darkness for a moment, before stepping into the house and closing the door. His face looked oddly pale – even paler than the normal sallow tone it usually bore – and Snape looked exhausted. Then he noticed Harry lingering in the hall and he had to forcefully grit his teeth together. Instead of bothering to speak to the boy, Severus lifted an arm and pointed Harry into the living room. For one long, horrible moment he thought Harry was going to argue but, for some reason, the boy bit back his retort and shuffled into the room Severus had motioned to.

Snape's living room was even darker than the hallway, the walls lined with books. Severus could see Harry regarding it with undisguised curiosity as he sank into a chair. Setting up protective wards was no easy feat – it drained the caster of their strength – which was why Severus was not taking this chance to lay into Harry, as tempting as the idea was.

"If you've finished gawking, Potter," Snape began, pausing to swallow hard. His throat was dry and had a sandpaper-like feel to it. "You will go into the kitchen and make me a cup of tea - milk, with two sugars." Harry turned his intense gaze to Severus then, clearly bemused. He was imagining Snape sitting in his chair with a pink rose-patterned cup and a white lacy tablecloth on the small table that was next to the chair. "And you may have tea or coffee if you desire it," Severus added hastily, assuming that the reason Harry was watching him was because he had not been offered a drink.

"Yes, sir," Harry said quickly, hurrying to the kitchen. He saw Severus lean back in the chair, closing his eyes before he walked along the corridor. Snape would probably skin him alive for seeing him do that.

The kitchen was small and cold. There was a fireplace, but it had the air of not being lit for a very long time and the windows were obscured by dark blinds. Nevertheless, it was well equipped. Harry managed to find a Muggle teapot and, once he had boiled a pan of water, set about producing a cup of tea. The teabags were in a chipped green pot on the windowsill, and the sugar was in a similar container. It took Harry a moment to realise that Snape had a rather nice tea set, despite it being battered.

Unfortunately, Harry had never been particularly good at making tea. He was fine with coffee – Uncle Vernon had seen to that – but Aunt Petunia had never been able to teach him how to make a good pot of tea. Luckily enough, the Dursley's only drank tea if they had guests, and then Aunt Petunia made the pot up. This meant it was acceptable for Harry to be dire at producing the beverage – his aunt and uncle never realised how bad his tea was. It was something of a genetic trait, Harry had decided, when Hagrid had once mentioned that his mother couldn't make a cup of tea to save her life. He peered uncertainly into the cup her had just prepared for Snape, trying to ascertain if it was drinkable. It looked alright, he finally decided. It wasn't too pale, like he normally made it, but Harry still settled for making himself a mug of coffee – just in case.

Severus was sitting up in his chair, a newspaper opened on his lap, when Harry returned. He had a little more colour in his cheeks, Harry observed, as he handed the man the less chipped cup. Severus didn't say anything but lifted the cup to his lips and promptly choked, coughing violently as Harry took a quick step back.

"Bloody _hell_, Potter!" Snape exclaimed once he had could talk. He scowled down into the cup and then at Harry. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Is it too hot, Professor?" Harry asked tentatively, edging further away from the man in case Snape hurled his tea at him.

"Too _hot_?" Severus demanded. "Too _hot_? Potter, this is so strong I could probably strip paint with it! Is this your ridiculous idea of a _joke_?" His eyes flashed dangerously and Harry took another step back, causing him to tumble over the table. He landed flat on his back, his head colliding with the floor, and his mug smashing. He heard himself swear and he also heard, to his astonishment, Snape curse violently.

It didn't, however, make Severus any more inclined to help him. Snape rose from the chair, standing over him with a sneer. His arms were folded across his chest and his face bore a menacing expression that made Harry shrink further back. He found himself vaguely wondering where his Gryffindor courage was when he needed it.

He froze as Snape raised his black wand. Preparing to be hit with a curse, Harry closed his eyes and hunched over, hoping that Snape wasn't feeling particularly vindictive. Instead of being hit by a curse, hex or jinx of some kind, Harry heard Severus say "_reparo_" clearly, and this was followed by the sounds of china scuffing along the floor.

Harry dared to look. The green mug he had smashed was sitting next to him, completely fixed, and Severus had sunk back into his chair. He was still unusually pale, yet Harry could see that he was behaving in a more normal fashion. Well, if his irritation and short temper were anything to go by anyway.

Tentatively, Harry picked himself up off the floor and dusted down his jeans. Severus let out his breath as he watched the boy patting his clothes down, only then realising that he had been holding it. With an expression of disgust, he flicked his wand at his cup and sent it soaring to the kitchen. There was a muffled crash as the cup slammed into something, probably the wall and Harry flinched.

"Alright, Potter," Severus said wearily, pressing a finger to his temple. He was already developing a headache and _fast_. This was not an ideal situation. Why on Earth had Albus decided to put the special, privileged Boy Who Lived in the care of a double agent – a double agent whom Potter despised with a passion? "Let me be clear about this: this is my home. You treat it, and me, with the utmost respect. I am to be addressed as _Sir_ or _Professor_ only, and you will remember your manners. You stay well away from the basement and if I _ever_ catch you in my bedroom I can promise that the Unforgivable curses will look preferable to what I will do. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry's green eyes widened behind the glasses, clearly slightly alarmed, but he nodded. Severus ignored this gesture as he continued to list rules that came to his mind.

"You are to be in your room by ten o'clock every night and I will burn your precious invisibility cloak if I find you using it to sneak around. Meals will be served at exactly nine o'clock, one o'clock and six o'clock. If you don't like what I cook, you go hungry. You send out no letters without my _express_ permission, and I will check them for content-"

Severus was cut off at this point by Harry cry of outrage, clearly furious with him. He had to admit, Harry looked like he was on the verge of stamping his foot. This thought made Severus' mouth become thinner as this action would remind him even more that James Potter's son was in his house and would be staying there. However the boy seemed the reign in his self control and he closed his eyes, obviously trying to ignore his anger.

"With all due respect, _Sir_," Harry spat out the title, causing Severus to grip the arms of his chair in fury. "Am I a guest here or a prisoner?"

In one fluid motion, Severus was on his feet. His black eyes seemed to be impossibly dark but Harry stood his ground, refusing to be moved. Instead of allowing his self control to slip, despite the fact something inside of him was screaming to slap the boy, Severus turned, walked to the fireplace and used his wand to light several crumpled balls of parchment on fire. Only when the flames were crackling and Severus was breathing at a more regular pace did he turn.

"Tell me, Potter," he said coldly, drawing out every word slowly. "What part of treating me with respect did you _not_ understand?"

"I don't see how I was disrespectful, Professor," Harry said steadily, standing his ground. He tried to keep his breathing as even as possible but Severus could see how hard the boy was working to keep himself fully controlled. He suspected that it would only a tiny part of Potter that was stopping Harry from throwing himself at his teacher and brutally assaulting him.

"You are always disrespectful, Potter," Severus snapped, anger flaring at the fact Harry was still questioning him. He was James Potter through and through – it was like having his old enemy back to haunt him. "Now, I will take you to your room and I don't want to see your face before nine o'clock tomorrow. Understand?"

His glare was forceful and filled with the hatred that was bubbling inside him. Thankfully Harry realised he was walking on dangerous territory and fell silent, only nodding to show that he had heard. Severus swept from the room, his robes flying, and he tried to disguise the fact he still felt weak, his legs trembling slightly. Casting powerful magic did not mix well with strong emotions and this resulted in the light-headedness, and the way Severus felt as though his legs were boneless.

The staircase was narrow, difficult to climb at the best of times, and Severus could only thank Merlin that it wasn't a long one. He reached the top and threw open the door to the nearest bedroom. He could hear Harry following him in, lingering in the doorway as Snape pulled a stack of dark brown bedding from a shelf in the wardrobe. He dropped it on the bed and made for the door before his legs could give out on him.

"I trust you have not been so pampered that you have never made a bed," Severus threw over his shoulder before he closed the door behind him with more force than was strictly necessary. As soon as the slam echoed throughout the house, Severus leaned his weight against the doorframe and closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for the world to stop spinning and his legs to stop shaking. He did not do _weakness_, especially not in front of Potter, but the choice of a few moments to regain his breath and collapsing was not a difficult decision to make.

After a minute, he heard Harry start to organise his bed behind the door. Severus belatedly realised that he had no nightclothes or toiletries but the boy could get by without them for one night. He was not prepared to loan Harry use of his things, and he could not return to Grimmauld Place.

The thought of the old house brought a question to the front of his mind: how had the Death Eaters managed to gain access to headquarters? Dumbledore was secret keeper and there was no way he could have been tricked into giving a Death Eater the location. Unless this was another plot of the old mans and, if that was the case, it was a particularly stupid one. Would he really be as dense to try to aggravate the Dark Lord with Potter still in the house?

Severus forced himself upright and made for the stairs on slightly steadier legs. He would make himself a cup of tea – how the hell Potter got by without lifting a finger to make a pot of tea escaped him – and wait for Albus to floo him. The headmaster would definitely be in touch during the course of the night, for he would want to check that Harry was still well and that Severus hadn't murdered him, cut him up and used the boy as ingredients for potions.

Allowing himself a rare smile at the tempting thought of using Potter's liver in a Pepper Up potion, the potions master fixed himself a steaming mug of tea and settled into his armchair. He found himself too weary to even retrieve a decent book to keep him occupied, instead reaching for the nearest tome. It was a fictional piece, one he had read many times before, but he still lost himself in the comforting words.

Fifty-two pages later, the fire turned emerald green and the unmistakeable figure of Albus Dumbledore emerged. Severus set aside the book, dropping it onto a small table with a thump, as Albus dusted down his robes and looked at Severus over the tops of his glasses. Once Snape had met his gaze unflinchingly, Albus' blue eyes darted about the room.

"He is in bed," Severus informed him coldly, motioning towards the stairs to the upper floor. "Feel free to go and take his pulse."

"No, my boy, it's fine," Albus took a seat in the other armchair and settled himself down, glancing around with a look of mild interest. "I must say, Severus, I have only been here one or two times before."

Severus chose to ignore this comment, fixing the headmaster with one of his patented death glares. He didn't respond until Albus moved on, clearly thinking aloud rather than talking to Severus.

"We always meet at Hogwarts," Albus continued, starting to construct steeples with his thin fingers. "Only natural, I suppose. Ah, well, moving on. How is Harry?"

"So far," Severus said, drawing out his words. "He has tried to kill me, dropped a mug on my floor and attempted to argue with me, all in the space of an hour. A promising start, no?" He raised an eyebrow at the elderly man, who actually had the audacity to chuckle.

"Kill you, Severus? I am sure that it was a mistake-"

"He gave me a cup of tea strong enough to pull paint off the walls! And then had the nerve to ask if it was _too hot_!" Severus rode over the headmaster and then ignored the sceptical expression the old man directed at him.

"You know, Severus," Albus said slowly, a slightly twinkle in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "I seem to recall Lily struggling to produce a drinkable cup of tea. And, besides that," he continued quickly, ignoring the mutinous expression that graced Snape's face. "It's merely a cup of tea. Move on, Severus. If you are to have Harry with you for the remainder of the summer then this will simply have to be-"

"_The remainder of the summer_?" Severus repeated in obvious disbelief. His skin took on a greyish hue at this comment and he swiftly rose, crossing to an old desk. He produced an amber bottle of Firewhiskey and sloshed a generous amount of liquid into a crystal glass from the mantelpiece. He gulped down the alcohol in one swift motion before turning to Albus and motioning to the bottle.

"No, thank you Severus," Dumbledore said, setting his hands on his lap. "You know I much prefer oak matured mead. And I dare say one glass is enough for you, considering Harry is upstairs."

There was a lot of banging as Severus put the bottle away, his face twisted with a mixture of emotions. The most prominent was anger, closely following by a feeling of indignation.

"Yes, about that," Severus said coolly, closing the drawer and turning to face the man who was his mentor. "Let's not be ridiculous, Albus. When can he go to the Burrow? His living here... It's a preposterous idea. I refuse to even condone it. James Potter would be turning in his grave if he knew his son was in my care and neither of us can stand the other. One night, at the _very most_, I can probably put myself through. But no more than that. Molly Weasley would be over the moon to have him at the Burrow, I would be _delighted_ to have him out of my home, so when can I send him?"

Albus sighed, peering over the top of his spectacles and in that very moment, Severus felt like a small child in trouble at school. He knew Albus would aim for something to make him small but damn it for being so effective. His glare only increased in ferocity as he stood before his desk. The thought of having Potter lingering in his home – his sanctity – for the next few weeks set his teeth on edge. How could he exist with James Potter's double pouring over his books, nosing through his possessions and, dear God, eating at the table with him? He couldn't. He just couldn't.

"Severus, he must," Albus said simply.

"Merlin damn it, Albus! I have done _everything _for you! Everything you have asked, from running around secret Death Eater hideouts to lying to the Dark Lord in person! I have done all that without a single question, and I did it all for Lily. But I cannot do this. It is... too much to ask of me," Severus began to shout, only to find his voice decreasing to a whisper at the end of his tirade. He looked up at the older man, silently pleading but Albus only shook his head.

"I thought you would do anything for Lily," was all he said, but the words were like a knife in Severus' heart. "It is her son, Severus, and he needs protecting. Lily would have wanted it. He is the safest here. No one will look for him with you – they will all presume that he is with the Weasley's. It's a flawless plan."

Severus turned away, his hands slamming onto the leather surface of his desk. Several bottles clinked together and an old coffee mug of quills fell, sending an array of feathers drifting to the floor. He could feel Dumbledore's eyes on his back, waiting. He should have known he would be hit with this. He should have known, because of the truth behind the words.

Lily would have wanted it.

He straightened up and turned, eyes weary and face set. He only managed a small nod in affirmation, but it was enough. Albus smiled at him, standing up to lay a hand on his shoulder in a fatherly fashion. His eyes were bright with relief and Severus, for some reason, felt any anger trickle away.

"Thank you, my boy," Albus said sincerely. "You know it's for the best." He squeezed the taller mans shoulder one last time before stepping back, indicating for Severus to be seated. "I assume you have questions?"

Severus nodded as he sank into his chair, shifting his position until he could comfortably cross his legs. Albus also returned to his seat, flicking his wand to conjure a tea tray. As the headmaster busied himself with preparing tea in a particularly garish lavender teapot, Severus fixed his gaze on the fire.

"How were the Death Eaters able to access Headquarters?" he asked after a few minutes of Albus messing around with squeezing the teabag or whatever he was doing. He turned away from the dancing flames to fix a piercing gaze on Dumbledore.

"You always begin with the most difficult questions, Severus," was the first thing Albus said, wearing swirling a silver spoon in another hideous lilac china cup, which he handed to Severus. "Never mind. I assume that you have heard the phrase _overprotection_?" Upon seeing the murderous look on the Potions masters face, the headmaster hurried on. "I'll take that as a yes. Anyway, it can happen, you know. Too many complex spells on one object, be it a motorbike, a table, or a house, and things can slowly break apart. Jinxes may become undone and the like."

Severus took a sip of the sweet tea, feeling something surge through him and his energy come back. Dumbledore's statement, however, caused his newly-relaxed muscles to snap back into tension and Severus looked over the rim of his teacup at the headmaster.

"You expect me to believe that the Death Eaters found Headquarters because of a few _jinxes_ coming, how did you term it, _undone_?" he asked in a voice that clearly showed how disbelieving he was. "It's a feeble excuse, Albus. Feeble."

"It's true, Severus," Dumbledore sighed wearily, for a moment looking truly ancient. Both wizards stared at each other until Albus showed signs of continuing to talk. "It was... foolish of us, really. We should have looked into how the enchantments may affect each other. A charm as volatile as the Fidelius would surely be reactive with certain branches of magic and spells... such as the charm used to make the dwelling unplottable." This was accompanied with another sad sigh and Severus chose to bite back the acidic remark that was at his lips, drowning it in another mouthful of tea.

"So," Severus finally spoke, when Albus showed no signs of continuing. "You had no idea about this? Because I find that rather hard to believe."

"An old man's mistake, Severus," Albus told him tiredly, setting his empty cup down. "I had an idea... but I wanted to see how long it would hold out. It lasted longer than I anticipated; by the time young Harry arrived I expected it to last. It had been holding out so well..."

"But what about the Death Eaters?" Severus demanded sharply. "Is it simply a coincidence that they were just _outside_ the Order headquarters when the charm fell and exposed the house? I think not. Something must have alerted them to us – and you are the Secret Keeper, Albus. No one but you could have given away the location so _why_ did you do it?"

"I didn't, Severus," Albus told him. He seemed to be emotionless but the tension he held himself with proved otherwise. "That's what concerns me. I told no one recently, apart from Harry. I tried not to make anyone aware of this at Grimmauld Place but action must be taken. And I think, my boy, that you would be best to do it."

Severus swallowed his shock with difficulty. Whatever he had been expecting hadn't been this and, strangely enough, the prospect that Albus didn't know was more terrifying than anything else. Albus Dumbledore always knew, and always had some kind of elaborate plan that was usually stupidly dangerous. But this...

"You know I will do my best to ask questions," he said, slightly stiffly. He still couldn't believe how close it had been. The Death Eaters had so very nearly gotten their claws into the precious Harry Potter, and what would have happened then? Severus' lip curled at the thought. The Wizarding world would undoubtedly fall into grief and mourning, the hopelessness allowing Voldemort to take over fully.

At this point, Albus looked far, far, far too tired for Severus' liking. The headmaster glanced towards the stairs, and Severus found himself wondering if the boy had gotten himself into bed. Sensing that his mentor wanted a few minutes to gather himself, Severus rose and made his way towards the hall.

"I'll be back," he told Albus, over his shoulder. "I need to check on Potter. And I hope, for his sake, he is _not_ using that infernal cloak to explore my house." He looked angrily at Albus, still livid that the headmaster had given Potter free reign of something like an Invisibility cloak, before he took the stairs with a form of loping grace.

He knocked sharply on the guest bedroom door and received no response. Half of him was tempted to go and extract more information from Albus, but the paranoid half argued that the boy could be poking through his house, so Severus threw open the door.

The room inside was dark, the curtains having been drawn against the night. Severus could, however, see the shape of Harry in the bed. He was lying on top of the covers, his glasses still on, and his limbs were twisted in a rather peculiar fashion. Silently, Severus advanced and peered down at the boy. In sleep his features were far softer and Severus could see Lily in him now.

For some inexplicable reason, Severus reached down and lifted the glasses off of Harry and set them on the bedside table. Noticing the wand clutched in his hand, he let out an exasperated his and tugged that from the boy's grip too. Muttering about the _foolish child_ and wondering why the brat thought it was a good idea to sleep holding a wand – he could blow his brains out, had he learned nothing? – Severus was distracted by a figure in the doorway.

Albus had followed him up the stairs. He stood on the threshold of the room, watching Harry with a small smile, a little like a grandparent watching their grandchild. Yes, Severus thought, a grandparent was a fitting description for the way Albus saw Harry. He looked at the boy the way a grandparent looks at their grandchild: through rose tinted glasses. He only saw the best in Potter, despite the boy's stupidity, foolishness, overconfidence and arrogance. Never mind if Harry threw himself headfirst into danger; Albus simply gave the boy a fond smile and no reprimand.

"He finally looks at peace when he sleeps," Albus said softly, careful to keep his voice low so not to disturb Harry. Severus simply snorted in response as he crossed the room, prepared to shepherd Albus out but, somehow, the small movements by the two wizards had awoken Harry.

Severus cursed under his breath as the boy moved and blinked his eyes open, struggling to see without his glasses. Snape could see him squinting trying to make out if he was alone or not.

"Go back to sleep, Potter," he instructed icily, his tone displaying no room for argument. "It is simply I, checking on you. Lie back down, preferably _under_ the covers."

"Do as Professor Snape says, my boy," Albus put in brightly, causing Severus to hiss under his breath. _Now_ the old man had done it – the boy wouldn't go to bed until he had some news of his friends. And, as Severus had expected, Harry sat bolt upright and was scrabbling frantically for his glasses.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry said, jamming the glasses on and leaping out of bed. His leg tangled in the blanket and he crashed to the floor to Severus' complete amusement. He had to bite back his smirk but it was quite a site, to see Potter sprawled on the floor with a brown quilt twisted around his ankle. "Professor, what happened? Is everyone alright?"

There's was a slight pause before Dumbledore answered, making Severus slightly uneasy. If Albus had to have a moment to think about how to phrase something it couldn't be good. And getting Potter back into bed would be considerably harder.

"Yes, Harry, everyone is alright," Albus said carefully, pressing his hands together as he talked. This did not seem to be enough for the teenager, who sat himself up carefully.

"Who screamed?" he asked, returning to the question he had hurled at Severus upon their arrival in Cokeworth. Albus shifted awkwardly and Severus lazily flicked his wand, detaching Harry from the bedding. The covers flew onto the bed, settling neatly into place whilst Severus turned back to Potter.

"Into bed, Potter, the headmaster has more important things to do than answer your ridiculous questions," he ordered, pointing at the bed and glaring in a manner that simply dared Potter to try and fight him. He should have known that this would have little or no effect, as warnings rolled off Potter like water on a ducks back.

"Please, Professor," Harry begged, ducking under Snape's arm. "They're my friends, and I need to know. Was anyone hurt?"

"_Potter_..." Severus hissed dangerously, reaching out to grab the boy by the hood of his jumper. He could have happily throttled the Gryffindor but Albus held up a hand to stop him. The headmaster faced the teenager with a solemn expression and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, similar to the way he had done to Severus earlier.

"Harry, no one was badly harmed," he said calmly, his touch obviously reassuring the boy. Severus rolled his eyes as he made his way to the window, checking that the street outside was deserted. He hated feeling on edge like this. "A curse hit Miss Granger in the chest. It was rather... Touch and go for a while but the Healers at St Mungos say she will make a full recovery. Professor Snape will escort you down to visit tomorrow, to set your mind at rest."

"_Will he_?" Severus hissed, eyes flashing but Albus didn't look at him. Harry looked like he was about to pass out as the headmaster steered him to the bed and forced him down onto the mattress. "Head between your knees, Potter, I cannot deal with you passing out now," he demanded, forcing Harry's head down.

"Are you sure she'll be alright?" Harry's muffled voice drifted up and Severus groaned softly, not willing to comfort the boy. He motioned to Albus to take over before sweeping from the room to the privacy and peace of his living room. As the door swung shut, he could hear Albus' reassuring tones and Harry's voice piping up at intervals. Severus didn't linger as he made his way down the stairs.

He had had more than enough of Potter for one night, thank you very much.

* * *

><p>It was one o'clock in the morning, according to the battered clock on the wall in Severus' bedroom. For a moment, as he sat in the blackness, Severus wondered what had roused him from sleep. He never usually woke up in the night, as he tended to fall into a deep slumber as soon as he slipped beneath his covers.<p>

He waited for a moment, listening carefully, before settling back down. It had been a long day and he was overtired and irritated, he decided. That had been the cause for his uncharacteristic waking up. Just as he had settled down and was ready to fall back asleep, a whimper reached his ears, followed by a shout.

Severus was out of bed in a flash, his wand seized in his hand. Surely there were not Death Eaters in his house, too. No, no, no... He threw open his door, looking down the landing as another cry came. It was coming for Harry's room.

Swiftly, Severus crossed the landing and opened the door with a bang. He was expecting Bellatrix to be stood over Harry's bed, or something of the sort, but the room was completely empty, aside from Harry. He was curled up in the bed, his face shining with sweat and the covers twisted around him. Severus stared for a minute, realising that Potter was caught in a nightmare. He sighed as he advanced closer to the bed, unsure of what to do.

As Severus drew nearer, Harry gave a loud yell and then screamed. His body jerked violently as he tossed to one side, grimacing. Severus paused next to the thrashing boy, hesitant to do anything. Why hadn't he just left Potter to sleep it though? Why had he come in when he realised the boy was not in danger?

Maybe because he knew something of nightly terrors himself, he realised, as he stood over the teenager. Just as he reached out to drag the boy back into consciousness, Harry seemed to come to.

"Cedric?" he asked, his voice hoarse, sitting bolt upright and frantically looking around the room. Once his gaze landed on Severus, he looked rather ill before he vomited all over Severus' feet.

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><p><strong>an2:** I hope you enjoyed this :) Please drop me a review and tell me what you thought!


	3. Occlumency

**Authors Notes— **Wow, guys, thank you so much for the incredible reviews! I'm honestly blown away that you consider this fic to be worth your time, so thank you. And I apologise if I haven't replied to you yet; I promise that I will reply as soon as I can, but it's just a little crazy over here right now. On that note, the next chapter may have a slight delay. I'm so sorry, but my sister is taking me to Rome for ten days and I'm going to be completely out of the loop. But I promise that I'll work on it as soon as I get back. So, thank you again— I cannot explain how much I appreciate the reviews and the support—and I hope you enjoy this instalment!  
>Also, please don't favouritealert without leaving a review, thank you.

**Disclaimer – **Disclaimed!

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><p><strong>Never Again<br>**_Chapter Two – Occlumency_

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><p>Severus had to close his eyes, ignoring Harry by completely blocking him out, so that he could count to ten very slowly. Anger flooded through him, coursing through his veins, as his temper kicked in but Severus did not particularly want to admit to Albus that he had murdered the boy after having him in his care for less than twelve hours. Something told him that killing the Boy Who Lived in a fit of rage would not go down too well with the Headmaster, and that if he did so, he would end up lynched by the Wizarding community.<p>

He finally opened his eyes, feeling slightly calmer, and looked at Harry. The boy was cowering on the bed in a most unusual manner for a Gryffindor, his green eyes wide with fear. There was no challenge or bravado on his face, implying that the nightmare had affected him more deeply that Severus had originally realised. But there was something about the way Harry hunched over, still frightened, that reminded Severus of himself at that age. He had spent far too many hours hiding in his bedroom in a similar position to Harry, listening to his father screaming downstairs.

"Potter," Severus snapped, his voice cold and hard because he couldn't quite manage to be sympathetic with the boy. He waved his wand, Vanishing the vomit and casting a cleaning charm over his feet, irritation still driving him. "What is the meaning of this?"

It was only then that Severus realised that Harry was still incredibly disorientated. The dazed expression on the boy's face seemed to show that Harry was still trying to free himself of the dream that plagued him. Severus' eyes narrowed at this, his frown deepening as he noticed how Harry seemed frozen. He didn't know what would be the best way to proceed or how to get the boy to snap out of the trance-like state he was in.

Decision made, Severus turned sharply on his heel and strode into his own bedroom. He yanked the drawer of his bedside cabinet open, causing the contents to shift, and began to rifle through his possessions. His haste made him less orderly, causing vials to noisily crash together as he pawed his way through the usually-organized drawer. He found what he was searching for after a few moments and turned, heading quickly back to Harry's room with his hand closed around the object. He felt relief prickle him as he noticed that Harry seemed to be coming around, meaning he would not have to try and coax the boy back to him, thank Merlin. The situation was bad enough – that would have been far too humiliating for both of them.

"Drink this, Potter," he ordered in a forceful tone, using his wand to remove the cork of the small vial he held in his hand. He thrust the rose-coloured potion at Harry, who accepted the vial but eyed it with evident mistrust, glaring at the contents. "Come now, Potter," Snape drawled, folding his arms across his chest and looking down at the boy. "If I was going to murder you, I would come up with a far more interesting— and _painful _—way. Especially after you vomited on my _feet_."

"I don't know," Harry muttered, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. "You always strike me as a poison man." But he sighed, swallowing the potion in one swift gulp, grimacing at the sickly taste that hit him. He placed the bottle in Severus' outstretched palm and cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry, Sir, about your feet..." he mumbled as Severus flicked his wand, untangling the bedcovers.

Severus only sneered in response, vowing to get to the bottom of things in the morning when he was less tired and Harry was more awake, for Severus was certain that he would not have received an apology had Harry been more alert. And he would definitely discover what was troubling Potter, although he already had a good idea what was. He would not allow himself to be dragged from his bed regularly; nor would Potter throw up on him ever again.

Harry crawled into bed, flopping onto the mattress and curling up whilst Severus was lost in thought. Seeing the boy in bed, Severus turned and headed for the door, his duty done, but he paused in the doorway, turning to look at Harry's figure in the bed.

"Empty your mind before you go to sleep, Potter," he instructed, surprising himself by giving Harry the command. He hadn't been planning to tell the boy to do that, mainly because the thought of Occlumency hadn't crossed his mind, but he was surprised he hadn't thought of it earlier. In addition to the potion, he was certain Potter wouldn't have any trouble throughout the rest of the night.

"Sir?" Harry asked sleepily, sitting up slightly, and feeling pleased he wasn't wearing his glasses so that he couldn't see the exasperated expression that he was sure the Professor would be wearing.

"Clear your mind of thoughts and emotions so that it is blank. Or, if that is too _challenging_ for you, Potter, do one of those ridiculous Muggle methods to send you to sleep. You know, counting sheep and such nonsense. That should be simple enough for you," Severus glared in the direction of the bed, daring the boy to comment, before realising that Harry wouldn't be able to see without his glasses.

Without bidding the boy goodnight, Severus turned and left the room silently. He left the door ajar so that he could hear any more upset, although he knew he wouldn't. He had given Harry a strong dose of Dreamless Sleep potion, meaning that Harry probably wouldn't awake until midday, and that Severus would be left in relative peace. He was slightly irritated that he had to change the instructions he had given the boy, but Severus would rather not be dragged to and from the boy's room every hour and an few extra hours without Potter to deal with would be pleasant.

As Severus pulled his own blankets up and settled down, he thought about the nightmare, wondering how it had gone undiscovered for so long. He had a feeling that it was a reoccurring nightmare about the torture Harry had endured in the graveyard, at the hands of Lord Voldemort and Harry shouting the name 'Cedric' only acted as confirmation of this. He allowed himself to speculate if Albus had made sure that Harry was alright after the ordeal. He knew that Albus hadn't though. If the headmaster had checked on Harry, he would have seen that they boy was struggling and, to be completely honest, Severus was amazed that Potter was holding himself together so well.

Wearily, Severus turned over and cast his thoughts aside. All of that could wait for the next day, which would undoubtedly be hellish if he was forced to have Potter in his home. He would have to Floo Albus and tell him about the nightmares too, and brew a batch of Dreamless Sleep and actually talk to the boy.

Yes, was Severus' final thought before sleep claimed him. It was going to be a very long day indeed.

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><p>Severus was reading an on Occlumency text in the front room when Harry stumbled down the stairs. Snape heard the boy moving around on the upper floor just as he sat down to read and ignored all the noise until Harry actually entered the room, looking rather pale and nervous. He shuffled into the room and stood by the door, waiting for Severus to turn his attention on him.<p>

Sighing, Severus slammed the book shut and set it aside, balancing it on the arm of his chair. He could see Harry's eyes darting around, clearly seeing if the room looked any different in the light of day. It was just as dark and dreary, however, as it had appeared the night before, but Severus had lit a lamp for reading, which made it slightly brighter. Rain could be heard bouncing off the small house, but there was no indication of the time, although Harry knew it was well past nine o'clock.

"Get in here, Potter," Severus instructed coldly, motioning the boy into the room. "I cannot abide loitering in doorways. And sit yourself down; we're going to be having a discussion." He pointed to the chair opposite, where Albus had sat the night before, and watched Harry take a seat. The boy's hair looked like he had been dragged backwards through a hedge and his clothes reminded Severus of those Lucius Malfoy's house elf would wear. "Potter, you look disgusting," he added, his lip curling at the boy's appearance.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Harry ground out. He was clearly gritting his teeth in an effort to keep calm around Severus, but he was as easy to read as an open book. "But I don't have any of my clothes, do I?" He glowered at Snape, who merely raised an eyebrow whilst his eyes flashed warningly, indicating that Harry was treading on very thin ice.

Severus, who was also in a black mood, seemed to be struggling to keep his temper reigned in. He had had a difficult conversation with the headmaster, attempting to convince the man that he asked too much in expecting Severus to teach the boy Occlumency as well as sharing his home with him. Even though Severus had insisted that Harry didn't need to learn the art, Albus had remained firm: Harry would be taught Occlumency, and Severus would do it.

"So, Potter," Severus began in a tone that only dared Harry to interrupt. "Tell me what happened last night because I do _not_ appreciate being dragged from my bed, especially without an explanation." He paused, looking pointedly at Harry, indicating that he should start talking and _quickly_ because Severus was not feeling very patient at all.

Harry cleared his throat, tousling his hair with one hand. Severus flinched at the gesture which reminded him of James Potter to the extent that it almost _hurt_. How Albus expected him to deal with this was a mystery, he realised, but Harry had opened his mouth to talk, meaning Snape listened. "I, um, had a nightmare," Harry said, his hands twisting the hem of his t-shirt now. He seemed unable to sit still, a little like Severus' attention made him nervous, an observation which made Severus smirk.

"Eloquent as usual, Potter," Severus said sarcastically, leaning back in his chair and sparing a disdainful glance for the boy. "I had worked that much out for myself, oddly enough. I would like you to elaborate and tell me what made it so bad that you screamed the house down and then proceeded to empty the contents your stomach on my feet." He folded his arms as he waited for Harry to speak, ignoring the way the boy's cheeks flamed at the mention of this, showing his embarrassment.

"I... Um..." Harry faltered under the fierce look Severus was giving him. The black eyes were boring into him, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and making Harry shrink back into the chair. "It was... Voldemort was in it," he finally said. Severus made no comment, indicating that Harry should continue to speak. Deliberately looking away from the Professor, focussing on a faded patch of carpet, Harry struggled to string the words together to explain the dreams that haunted him every night. "It was in the graveyard... You know, when _he_ came back. And it was just like it happened on the night. He came back and Cedric was killed... I'm sorry I woke you, Sir, I meant to cast the Silencing Charm, like I'd been doing with Ron, but I forgot with everything happening and—"

Severus cut him off with a sneer. "I see you have the utmost respect for the law, Potter," he said coldly. "About as much as you do for school rules. It's no wonder that you're due at a Hearing for underage magic next week." He sniffed at this, remembering all too well the time he had caught Potter and his irritating friend flying a car to school without a thought about the statute of secrecy.

"I was defending myself and my cousin from a couple of Dementors!" Harry cried, throwing his hands up in defeat. He soon realised that he had overstepped the fine line when Severus rose to his feet, his expression one of fury. Harry gulped and leant back in the chair, intimidated. He hadn't meant to annoy his Professor so soon—it was just so _easy _for them to irritate each other. Mainly because Severus hated him and he returned the feeling. And he had only been trying to defend his actions because he was certain that protecting his soul, and Dudley's, warranted the use of a Patronus.

Severus only snorted as he towered over Harry, glaring at the boy. "I think I just heard you volunteer to scrub my kitchen until it _gleams_, Potter," he said silkily, waiting for Harry's face to fall. The boy didn't seem to see this punishment as a trial, however. Severus found this slightly odd, but he chose to ignore it— he had more pressing matters on his mind at that moment. "You may do that after our discussion and lunch. Anyway, I had been able to work out that you were reliving the events of the graveyard. The Headmaster has informed me that I must teach you Occlumency."

"Teach me _what_?" Harry blurted before he could stop himself. He bit his lip, waiting for Severus to lose his temper completely, but the Professor was walking slowly along his right wall, clearly hunting for a book on the bookshelf. It didn't stop him from delivering a cutting comment, however.

"I wouldn't expect you to know what Occlumency is, Potter," he said, his finger trailing along the leather bindings of the books. "You are far too lazy to look into a branch of magic that is as obscure as Occlumency is. _But it is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration._ It is extremely useful, hence the headmaster wishing you to study it."He located the book he wanted and eased it from the shelf. Harry craned his neck to see the cover but he couldn't make out the title because of the way Severus held it. He could see that it was an olive green leather tome, which was also extremely large, with probably about two-thousand pages. "We will begin the first lesson tonight, when my kitchen shines, Potter," Severus informed him as he swept from the room, taking the book with him.

Lunch, which was cheese and tomato sandwiches, was eaten in silence. Severus could see that Harry felt extremely awkward around him from the way the boy kept shifting his position and tapping his foot against the table leg to a rhythm. He thought back to the chaos he had walked into at Grimmauld Place and realised that eating in the small kitchen with him was probably worlds away from what Harry was used to with the Weasley's and at home with his family.

Once the plates had been put away, Severus left the boy to clean the filthy kitchen and made his escape to his books. He was completely astonished when he found Harry scrubbing down the floor whistling an hour later. The boy was acting in a manner that suggested he had done chores like this before, possibly even worse from the cheerful manner he was acting in. Severus pushed this though from his head immediately, because he was certain that the pampered Harry Potter would never lift a finger at home. And then Severus continued on his way, pushing the thought to the back of his mind.

* * *

><p>Harry finished the kitchen within three hours and he found the Potions Master in the living room, making notes from the green book he had removed from the shelf earlier.<p>

"Professor?" he asked, softly. He clasped his hands behind his back as he waited for Severus to speak.

"What did I tell you about loitering in doorways, Potter?" Severus demanded, not even looking up from what he was doing. Harry quickly hurried into the room, standing in the middle of the carpet. He hadn't found cleaning the kitchen challenging, for he was used to working in that manner at the Dursley's, but his knees were aching, and he had no desire to provoke Snape further.

"We shall begin now," Severus informed him, closing the book and coming to stand in front of Harry. He held his wand in his hand, which didn't bode well. "I am going to attempt to penetrate your mind, Potter, and you need to stop me."

"You're going to penetrate my mind _now_?" Harry repeated, disbelief colouring his tone. "But how am I meant to stop you when I don't know anything about this subject?" He asked incredulously, eyeing Severus' wand wearily. If Snape could penetrate his mind, he would certainly be able to view Harry's private thoughts and Harry had no desire to be humiliated before his least favourite teacher. "Sir," he added as an afterthought.

Severus rolled his eyes, exasperated before the lesson had even begun properly. Was the boy really stupid enough to think that Severus would just _tell_ him the answer? Part of Occlumency was learning your own mind and how to protect it—there was no set way of doing it. "You have to work it out yourself, Potter," Severus informed him coldly, raising his wand. "Your mind is so depraved I wouldn't even hazard a guess as to what method would work. And now...One... two... three _Legilimens_!"

Severus watched Harry fall to his knees as his mind was assaulted with memories. A large boy with a red toy car was towering over him, crushing the little toy in his meaty fist and laughing as he dropped it to the ground, whilst a sense of despair tugged at his stomach. The memory was replaced by a feeling of claustrophobia as he pressed himself against the door, peering through a slot and begging to begging to be let out. The scene switched to a garden, where the fat boy from earlier played in a paddling pool whilst he, as Harry, worked in the heat, his shirt sticking to his back as he scrubbed the windows...

And then Severus' mind was his own again, and there were no more memories. Harry lay spread-eagled on the floor, his cheek pressed against the ground as he panted, his body rising and falling as the boy took in gulps of air. Severus let out an irritated sigh.

"Ever the drama queen, Potter," he sneered, despite the fact a sense of discomfort niggled him. The memories he had witnessed—Potter's memories—were filled with a sense of loneliness, fear and desperation. And, even though he had sworn to treat Potter as James had once treated him, a promise Severus had kept since the boy had set foot in the school, Severus could not help but feel concerned about these incidents in Harry's memories. His instincts told him that he should allow Harry some time to recover, but his curiosity wouldn't allow it. Without showing that he was even slightly worried, Severus glowered down at the boy. "Up you get, Potter. You need to _try_ and block me out, at least! You're as open as a book and you're mind is the same. You need to close it, to feel nothing, and not let me invade!" He ended his speech, watching Harry stand up shakily. He lifted his wand again, preparing to cast the spell. "One... two... three... _Legilimens_!"

Once again, Harry's memories hit him with full force. A woman with a broad build and a moustache used her handbag to hit him in the ribs, the heavy object knocking the wind out of him... He was then hit by the memory of being thrown into a cupboard, the sound of the bolt being pushed shut prompting terror to overcome him... The he was in the kitchen, where a scrawny woman with a long neck slapped him for not being fast enough with the dishes...

When Severus pulled free of Harry's mind, he was tempted to join Harry on the floor. He felt like he had relived his own childhood in that moment, and he couldn't quite bring himself to admit that he was feeling a strong sense of sympathy for the boy. He hated the idea of him actually feeling sorry for James Potter's son, but he couldn't help the pity he was filled with.

"Up, Potter," he ordered, acting on autopilot more than anything else. Harry quickly obliged, clumsily scrambling to his feet. He seemed to be waiting for Severus to penetrate his mind again but Snape motioned for the boy to follow him.

Severus led Harry to the kitchen where he pointed his wand at the kettle, causing the water to boil, before he busied himself with making tea. He could hear Harry's laboured breathing behind him as he attempted to sort his own head out. He had no idea what he should say to the boy. There was no way in hell that he would admit that he understood what Harry had been through and he was certainly _not_ going to offer a shoulder to cry on. But something inside of him urged him to find out more about Harry's childhood and family.

He needed to find out for Lily, he realised. He needed to know what Lily's son had been through, and he needed to know for himself too, in case Harry had been treated as badly as he had been. He just needed to find a way to ignore how much Harry resembled James whilst he did that.

Severus placed a mug of tea in front of Harry, taking a seat opposite him and looking at the boy. Harry had curled his hands around his drink and was sipping the scalding liquid whilst keeping his gaze on his Professor.

"So, Potter, I think we need another little chat," Severus drawled, keeping his face blank as he did so. Harry looked away, clearly uncomfortable and Severus sighed, lifting his drink. It was going to be harder than he had initially realised. "About the content I saw in your memories."

"With all due _respect_, Sir," Harry said, in a tone that implied to opposite of what he had said. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You are going to talk about it, Potter," Severus snarled, slamming his mug down. "I need to know if you were abused with your relatives!"He winced slightly, as he hadn't meant to lose his temper so easily, nor to blurt his concern out in such a manner. Messing up and saying the wrong things would only make Harry more determined not to tell him.

"Why do you care?" Harry demanded, looking taken aback at Severus' comment and completely losing any trace of respect for his teacher. "You hate me!"

Severus let out an angry hiss at the boy, his eyes flashing furiously as he glared. Harry didn't shrink back, meeting Snape's gaze without any sign of fear. Severus wasn't sure if he should welcome back the obnoxious Potter he knew, or curse the boy. With an irritated glance at Harry, Severus took a gulp of tea to give him strength.

"Just because I am not the president of your fan club doesn't mean I _hate_ you, Potter," he snapped, frustrated that he had to say this to Harry. The boy didn't look like he believed him, but Severus continued, regardless of that fact. "You _will_ tell me now, or else I will force you to. I have a very healthy stock of Veritaserum, you know."

The threat made Harry realise he had no choice. He sighed, slumping against the table. Why he had to tell Snape about his humiliating childhood was beyond him. Of all the people to hear about how he had bars on his window, it was _Snape_. Harry would have rather shared the information with Lord Voldemort himself than with the greasy Potions master.

"Fine," he said bitterly, not noticing how Severus seemed to relax a little at his agreement. "Fine, I'll tell you everything."

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><p><strong>Authors Notes(ii):<strong> I hope you enjoyed this— leave me a review and tell me what you thought? Also, please don't favourite without leaving me a review, thank you!


	4. Revelations

**Authors Notes—**Firstly, a huge apology for my lack of updates. There's really no excuse for leaving it this long, but I've been dealing with a lot of things in real life—including becoming an auntie to a gorgeous little boy, but that's just one of many. I really am so sorry! But I really want to get this into a rhythm of regular updates, and I really hope I haven't lost my readers.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and you all have a wonderful Christmas!

**Disclaimer—**Disclaimed!

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><p><strong>Never Again<br>**_Chapter Three— Revelations_

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><p>Severus watched Potter sinking in his seat, his hands curling around his steaming mug of tea. He looked exactly like his father had when James had been in a sulk about something—usually Lily, Severus thought with a sneer—and he had to bite back his comment. Getting the boy up in arms about his precious father would do neither of them any good and Severus knew this. So he remained silent, scowling at Potter as he waited for the boy to talk.<p>

Silence remained and Severus let out an irritated growl.

"Some time this year would be nice, Potter," he snapped at him, "Preferably before I die. Now sit up straight and _tell me_, because I have very little patience, especially when it comes to you!"

"Yeah, because telling me that makes me _want_ to tell you private stuff, doesn't it?" the boy muttered sarcastically and Severus had to fight to keep his temper tightly under control.

Harry was looking at him with anger glinting in his eyes, and Severus made himself swallow some tea to stop anything coming out of his mouth that he would later regret.

"I—" Severus began, the attempt of an apology creating a bitter taste in his mouth but then he stopped, realising who he was about to apologise to. "Don't make me get that Veritaserum, Potter," he threatened instead, his voice harsh to let Harry know he would carry out this.

Harry sighed and Severus watched him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to start talking. It took a moment but the boy pushed his still-full mug away and sat up a little straighter.

"I don't know where to start," he said, making Severus let out an impatient hiss.

"At the _beginning_ might be a good idea, Potter!" he snarled, thoroughly tired of the boy by now because Potter was clearly hedging. "_When_ exactly did your precious relatives begin to abuse you?"

More silence. Severus found himself gripping the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles turned white with the force but he continued to glare at Harry, waiting and holding his tongue.

"They've _always_ been like that, Sir," Harry finally said slowly, his voice hesitant as he stared at the oak topped surface, obviously uncomfortable with looking at Severus. But then the lifted his head, his green eyes—Lily's green eyes—locking with his and holding Severus' gaze.

Before Severus had really had any time to think, or even to formulate a response of any kind, the empty grate burst into emerald flames and Arthur Weasley stumbled into Severus' kitchen. He stopped himself from crashing into the table before brushing ash off his robs and offering Harry a small smile.

"Hello, Harry," he said warmly to the boy, "Severus," he added with a nod to Snape, who remained in his seat without movement. "Did Albus not tell you?"

"Tell me _what_, Arthur?" Severus managed to growl, talking through his gritted teeth in irritation. Did Arthur realise what an important conversation he had interrupted? Probably not, Severus knew, but he was still exceedingly annoyed.

"Albus asked me to collect Harry, to take him to see Hermione," Arthur said and Severus felt even more angered when he saw Harry's face up like his birthday had come early. "Just a quick trip to St. Mungos, to put the boy's minds at rest."

"Very well," Severus said coldly, rising from his chair and sending the mugs to a sink with a wave of his wand. "Potter, take that damned invisibility cloak with you and wear it at all times until you reach the ward. Talk to no one, tell none of your little friends where I live and _don't wander off_."

Harry leapt to his feet, babbling something that sounded like _Yes Sir_and _Thanks, Mr Weasley_ but said so fast it became a garbled mess before bounding out of the kitchen to reappear again, moments later, with the silvery cloak thrown over an arm. Severus felt rage simmering in his stomach at the sight of the blasted thing. The boy's father had caused Severus so many hours of trouble because he had had it, and the sight of the cloak alone caused the old hatred to resurface.

"Have Potter back here before dark," Severus instructed Arthur icily, his robes flying behind him as he followed them to the fireplace to find the small pouch with a small handful of Floo powder in.

"Of course, Severus," Arthur said with a polite incline of the head, "Come on, Harry," he added, stepping into the grate with Harry.

Neither of them bothered to call a goodbye to Severus, but Severus did not dwell on this. Instead, he walked into the living room and found his cloak, which he had left hanging on the back of the door. He tossed it around his shoulders, dimmed the lights and left the house, checking the wards we still in place.

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><p>It was late afternoon, fading into a pleasantly warm summers evening as Severus marched down the street. He could not help but dwell on Potter's memories and the way he had said he had been treated like that his entire life. It reminded Severus too much of his own childhood and adolescence and, despite his intense dislike of James, he would never wish it on any child. Even Harry Potter. But he just couldn't bring himself to believe the boy—he had been brought up by Petunia who, despite her attitude as a child, must have been almost desperate to cling onto the one thing she had left of her sister.<p>

Severus reached the dark alley he used for apparition and disillusioned himself before spinning sharply on the spot. He Apparated directly onto the stone steps of the Grimmauld Place house and kicked the door open with one foot. It was dank and dusty still but the hall was torn apart, with the hat stand, umbrella stand and assorted cloaks strewn across the floor and Sirius' infernal mother was wailing from her portrait.

The Death Eater's had definitely been in then, Severus thought as he squared his jaw. He took to the stairs, deciding to get out of the house before he ended up having to explain himself to the Dark Lord himself.

He found the upper floors in the same disarray as the hall, but possibly even more chaotic due to the way the contents of the bedrooms being strewn around too. Severus picked his way through the destruction until he found the small room in which all the children had shoved their trunks in. And it seemed that the Death Eater's had not found them as they remained undisturbed.

Potter's was definitely the lightest out of them all, Severus noted as he went to drag it out. He was going to shrink it and put it in his pocket, but instead he decided on opening it, just to check all Potter's possessions were in there and there were no curses on it. Hell would break loose if Voldemort got hold of that dratted Map he knew Potter had, or anything of the boy's.

Inside the trunk was a miserable affair. There were a few text books from the previous year, a few pristine items of clothing that were Harry's Hogwarts uniform but the other clothes were old, ruined, full of holes and clearly far too big for the boy.

Slowly, Severus closed the trunk and shrunk it to fit in his pocket. He felt a little like he was acting on auto pilot as Harry's memories flooded his head again. Severus had been unable to believe that Petunia Dursley would do something like this to her nephew but concern was now growing inside of him, although he would be keeping that thought to himself because he was Slytherin head of house and the most intimidating Professor.

He left the dank house, Apparating home and leaving the trunk in Potter's room before pouring himself a glass of elf made wine and finding an old photograph of Lily. For a long while he looked down at her smiling face with her dancing emerald eyes whilst the light faded from the room.

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><p>Harry arrived back at Spinners end before nightfall and a little more cheerful, Severus noted. He had put the picture of Lily away a long time ago—he did not want Harry to know anything about the friendship and love he had once shared with his mother—but she was still in his thoughts, meaning he was unhappy to have to deal with the boy.<p>

"I trust you are satisfied Granger will not die?" he asked Harry with a sneer, rising and leading the boy to the kitchen to remove the macaroni cheese from the oven.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said bitterly, lifting two plates from a cupboard and putting them on the side. Severus had not been expecting this small piece of helpfulness, and found himself too shocked to mention it.

"We shall finish our conversation from earlier, Potter," Severus told him coldly, handing Harry a plate of steaming food before serving his own, "We have still not got to the bottom of this."

He did not miss the scowl Harry directed at his plate, but he chose not to pick the boy up on it. Severus took the seat opposite him and watched as Harry began to eat.

"I went to Grimmauld Place today, Potter," he said as Harry paused to gulp down some water, "To fetch your things. Would you care to explain why your clothes are in a state of disrepair and far too large?"

Harry had frozen, a fork half way to his mouth. His eyes narrowed at Severus as he placed the fork down, shoving his plate away.

"You went through my trunk?" Harry asked, his tone suddenly sounding just as obnoxious as James Potter's once had. Severus found himself gritting his teeth together and realising that this was a frequent occurrence around Potter.

"Yes, Potter, I did," Severus spat, "And I did it because I am responsible for you over the summer and the last thing we want if for the Dark Lord to have placed a curse on your possessions, is it? Now _answer my question_."

Harry seemed to be debating remaining silent just to provoke him but, to Severus' immense relief, he apparently changed his mind. He sighed, obviously irritated and rubbed his scar absently. Despite his fury, Severus noticed the gesture with a slight feeling of unrest because this was the kind of connection Albus had wanted to prevent but the boy seemed unaware of what he was doing.

"It's because they're all passed on from my cousin," Harry said wearily, "When he gets fatter, I get his cast offs. Freaks don't get new clothes, my aunt always said."

Severus found himself pushing his chair back and walking to the window so he didn't let go of his self control. Potter had been in his house less than a whole day and Severus had found that he had already been tested to the limit in terms of patience and control. But this time it was because Potter's words had reminded him of his own childhood again. Tobias had always called him a freak, Severus mused, and it was something he wouldn't even wish on Potter.

"Sir?" Harry asked, still at the table. Severus turned to look at the boy and he really _looked_, for the first time in years.

Yes, the boy was undoubtedly scrawny but it was an unhealthy kind of thin whilst, now Potter had said, the clothes he wore did look far too thin and worn. Severus wouldn't even dress a dog in those rags, not that he would tell Potter that. Harry was still his enemy's son and he would not have the boy running to tell his godfather something like that.

At the thought of Sirius, Severus realised it was rather odd that the dog hadn't been in touch yet, demanding to know how Severus was treating his godson. But Severus had to push this thought away—he was already dealing with too much.

"Potter," he said firmly, standing above the boy with his arms folded across his chest, "If you are lying to me, I will make this summer most unpleasant for you and—"

"I'm not lying!" Harry cut in, jumping to his feet and sending his chair toppling backwards. Severus raised an eyebrow calmly as Harry blushed, clearly having lost control of his temper. "I mean, I wouldn't lie about this, Sir," he added, sounding slightly more respectful, albeit not much.

"I should hope not," Severus said with a sniff. "I shall be informing the Headmaster of our chat, Potter, now finish your dinner. And if I see you destroying any more furniture or any possession of mine you will regret it."

Harry nodded, picking his chair up and sitting down to stab at his food, apparently having heard the dangerous note to Severus' voice. There were a few minutes silence whilst Severus brooding as cutlery scraped against the china plates but then Harry cleared his throat before speaking.

"Sir, I thought you'd know about my Aunt and Uncle," he said slowly, pushing a lone piece of macaroni around the plate. "My Hogwarts letter came address to me and it had _The Cupboard Under the Stairs_ written on it. I thought..."

Severus found his head snapping up, finding it honestly hard to believe he had heard Potter correctly.

"Not anymore," Harry said hastily, "I mean, I have a bedroom now because when the first Hogwarts letter came they—"

"Potter, shut up now," Severus said in a low voice. "You spent ten years in a cupboard? Under the stairs? And you did not _mention_ this at Hogwarts?"

"I didn't want to be sent back to them," Harry said quietly and Severus found himself slapping a hand down. The boy fell silent as Severus rose and began to pace the kitchen, furious with Albus for allowing Lily's son to be treated like that, but at himself for actually having some semblance of concern for James Potter's child.

"Potter, no one would send you back to abusive relatives," he snapped, pressing his fingers to his temples as he felt a headache begin to build. He always developed one when confronting children who had suffered as he had, and it often made him feel ill to even think of people like his father. "I shall Floo the headmaster and you shall tell him everything you have told me. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry murmured as Severus strode to the fireplace, using a meagre amount of Floo powder. "Thank you, Professor," he added, sounding genuinely grateful.

Severus said nothing, but he was slightly surprised he did not snort or show Potter some contempt. He dropped to his knees and leant into the green flames, calling "Albus Dumbledore's office!" as he did so, meaning he did not have to talk to the boy.

Albus had been unwilling to leave Hogwarts to come to Spinners End again, but Severus had been insistent. Even though he had finally worn the old man down, Albus kept them waiting for half an hour whilst Severus paced and Harry perched uneasily on a chair, tapping his foot against the floor as they waited.

The boy thankfully remained silent, which was better for him as Severus found himself growing steadily more sarcastic as time wore on. Finally the fire flared green and Albus emerged, stepping into the room with a kindly smile.

"I apologise for the delay, Severus," he said as Severus finally stopped pacing to direct a filthy look at the man, "I was occupied with some other matters. Harry, my boy!"

"Hello, Professor," Harry said quietly and Severus motioned for Albus to sit down in his usual chair.

"I haven't called you here to _chat_, Albus," Severus said frostily, also taking a seat. "I have called you here to discuss some rather disturbing truths I unearthed when I was having Occlumency lessons with Potter."

Albus leant forward, pressing his fingers together and watching both Severus and Harry over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. He was so calm and impassive that it was infuriating Severus, but he couldn't help but notice that whilst Albus glanced at Potter, his eyes snapped away again and seemed to focus more on Severus.

"Oh, yes?" Albus asked, with what appeared to be mild interest. He glanced around the room before flicking his wand at the lights to make the room brighter, much to Severus' distaste. "Like what?"

"He has been mistreated," Severus said stiffly, ignoring the way Harry flinched in his seat, clearly embarrassed by Severus' bluntness. He kept his dark gaze on Albus, his expression blank as he waited for Albus to do something but the man's expression reminded Severus of how he had reacted to Death Eater's breaking into the Order Headquarters—blank and calm.

For a moment, there was a long silence and then Albus looked directly at Severus with a shake of the head. His blue eyes were still twinkling and Severus could tell the man hadn't taken him seriously.

"Nonsense, Severus," he said firmly, keeping his gaze locked with Severus'. "We would know if—"

"Potter, tell him," Severus snapped in Harry's vague direction, uncaring that he had just cut right over the Headmaster. "Tell the Headmaster what you told me."

He looks away from Dumbledore to meet Harry's gaze, holding it steadily. Harry slowly nodded and turned to look at Albus, who was pointedly studying the dark carpet.

There was silence as Harry spoke as both Severus and Albus listened. Once or twice Severus caught Harry glancing at Albus, looking slightly concerned and Severus realised that Harry had obviously picked up on the fact the Headmaster was deliberately avoiding looking at him. But he carried on, finishing speaking ten minutes later and glancing at Severus.

"What do you have to say about that, Albus?" Severus asked, the cold fury in his voice unmistakeable. Albus lifted his head to look at Severus, appearing far less genial and more sober and Severus knew the man was shocked he was speaking so firmly on Harry's behalf. He was surprising himself.

"I am sorry, Severus," he said slowly, looking steadily at the Potions Master, "But I can't do anything. Harry must return to Petunia every summer for the blood wards to work."

"To hell with the damn blood wards!" Severus snapped, uncaring of the fact Harry was still in the room, "It is not safe for him there, Albus, we may as well hand him over the Voldemort if we send him back and I will _not_ see Lily's son dead!"

As soon as the words left his lips, Severus felt himself stiffen as anger flooded into him. He spun to glower at Harry, who was sitting in his chair looking at though he had been smacked over the head with a heavy object.

"Say nothing, Potter," Severus threatened him, venom dripping from every word before turning back to Albus. "Albus, you cannot send him back!"

"Petunia offers him a home, it is all the blood wards need," Albus began but Severus cut him off with a movement of the hand.

"Quite frankly, Albus," Severus said, further alarming himself at the fact he was firmly arguing against sending the boy to the Dursley's, "I could not care less about the blood wards. And I will _not_ let you send the boy back to Petunia. I seem to recall Minerva arguing vehemently against Potter being sent there, and I am now inclined to agree with her."

Albus did not seem to be able to reply to this, looking up at Severus and Severus could see that he had not been anticipating Severus to react like this. This made Severus have to fight to bite back a small smirk and remain impassive as he looked down at Albus until the man sighed.

"I cannot promise anything, Severus," he said, "For Harry needs the protection those blood wards bring, but I shall look into it. Will that be satisfactory?"

Severus found himself tempted to say _no_, because it was clearly at attempt to buy time, but he nodded and agreed to this plan with a slight feeling of mistrust building inside of him.

"It will do, Albus," he said coldly, still refusing to look at Harry. He was furious with himself for letting something personal slip in front of the boy, but angry with Albus for leaving the boy with Petunia and fuming with people in general.

As soon, as Albus had left, Severus prepared himself to be hit with a barrage of questions as he turned to face the boy. Instead a white-hot pain seared through his skin in his left forearm, so strong that Severus' vision blurred and the room appeared to spin. Immediately, Severus clapped his hand over it and let out a hiss of pain as Harry leapt out of the chair and hovered, unsure of what to do.

"I have to go out, Potter," Severus snarled, releasing his arm and moving quickly towards the chair where he had flung his Death Eater robes. "Go to your room, do not leave it, understand?"

"Professor, what's going on?" Harry called, watching as Severus seized up the bundle of black cloth and made to leave the room.

"If you must know, Potter, the Dark Lord has summoned me," Severus snarled over his shoulder, "Now get to your room. Message no one. I will be back shortly."

He heard Harry climbing the stairs as he hastily pulled his robes on and began to prepare his mental shields for Voldemort's attack to access his memories. He could not help but feel nervous and shaky as, in all his years as a spy, he had never placed himself in this much danger. Acting as the guardian of the Boy Who Lived and not handing him over to the Dark Lord was like suicide and Severus knew it.

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><p><strong>Authors Notes(ii):<strong> Happy Christmas to all and please don't favourite or alert without leaving a review, please and thank you!


	5. Adjusting

**Never Again  
><strong>_Chapter Four— Adjusting_

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><p>Harry sat on his bed, listening to his Potions Master moving about downstairs. There was a series of muffled crashes and several muttered curses before he heard the front door slam and saw Snape marching down the street, black robes billowing behind him. Harry watched him until he disappeared down an alley, nausea rising from his stomach. Yes, he didn't like Snape and he knew that Snape despised him with a passion but the man was still risking his life for Harry and it was an odd feeling. He felt <em>grateful<em> to the man, and gratitude and Snape were two ideas that had never mixed before in Harry's head.

He moved away from the window, rubbing his scar as it burned dully. He knew Snape had instructed him to remain in the room but the four walls were horrendously boring and, if Snape had been summoned by Voldemort, Harry knew he must have a fair bit of time. He nudged the door open and shuffled onto the narrow landing, looking around as though his Potions Master might slide from the shadows in an instant.

It was a very strange feeling, creeping around a Professor's house, and Snape's home was not quite what he had expected. Harry hadn't believed that Snape lived in a cave like the bat Ron swore he was, but the house was more tired-looking that Harry would have expected. Most of Snape's possessions were broken, chipped or worn and the only things that seemed well-cared for were the books. Harry ran his finger along the spines of the novels in the front room, thinking about how much Hermione would love the chance to see them. There were several texts on Snape's shelf that were in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts, and there were a lot of other equally forbidding looking books that he could have easily glanced through.

There were no personal possessions, really, Harry realised. Or, if there were, they were hidden away where Harry couldn't find them. He was hesitant to open the drawers too, just because he was wary of what Snape might keep in there.

He almost stumbled over the Occlumency book Snape had been reading earlier as he began to retreat to his room, uneasy in the house. He glanced at the old clock on the mantelpiece, realising that he had been wandering aimlessly for nearly an hour. Immediately, and against Harry's will, fear was clawing away at him.

Snape, as much as Harry hated him, was out there with Voldemort shielding Harry from him. He was risking his life for the boy he hated and Harry felt sick with worry for the man—not that he would ever admit it. He lowered himself into Snape's armchair and pulled the book towards him, hoping that reading might take his mind off it.

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><p>Severus stood rigidly between Lucius Malfoy and Theodore Nott Senior. Lucius was muttering something beneath his breath but Severus was far too busy readying his Occlumency shields to care what the man was saying. He was tense, like he was walking on knife edge, and sweat was dripping down his back and making his robes stick to him.<p>

Lord Voldemort was restlessly pacing the floor of the Nott manor they were meeting in, Nagini looped around his neck. Severus was dimly aware of them hissing together in parseltongue as he readied himself. He was far too aware that the life of Lily's son rested in his hands directly and that it was all Dumbledore's fault. As if it wasn't bad enough that the old man had forced Potter on him for the summer, Severus was now fearful for both his life and the boy's.

"Is this all who are attending?" The Dark Lord demanded suddenly, his red eyes sweeping over the assembled company, "Where is everyone else?"

"They don't appear to be coming, my Lord," Lucius said in a voice that was oily with apparent respect, stepping forward with a bow that caused his white-blonde hair to swing forwards, "Maybe we should begin the meeting without them?"

"My most faithful," Voldemort said smoothly, stepping forward so that he was in the middle of the semi-circle formed by the Death Eaters.

Severus felt his skin crawl as he forced himself to meet the Dark Lord's gaze, keeping his mental shields firm. He could feel Voldemort attempting to slip into his mind and so he shoved some every-day images forth, thinking about his devotion to the cause as hard as he could. For a few minutes, he could feel his mind being probed but then the Dark Lord withdrew and relief crashed into Severus with force.

"You shall pay for their mistakes," Voldemort announced suddenly and, before Severus could really register what was happening, the Dark Lord had pointed his wand and him and said "_Crucio_."

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><p>It was the early hours of the morning when Severus fell into his hallway, the door closing behind him as he sprawled on the dusty carpet. Everywhere—all his muscles—were burning and he felt as though someone had tangled his veins together and pulled. It was hard to breathe, he realised, as he struggled to take in a lungful of air and he wondered if he was going to be able to Floo Madam Pomfrey to assist him. He couldn't move from his spread-eagled position on the floor and he couldn't reach his wand because his hands were on fire with pain.<p>

He had managed to walk out of the Nott's manor after the meeting had ended, but he was in so much agonizing pain that he had collapsed at the end of the drive and remained there for a while before he was able to gather the strength to Apparate home. When he had managed to land himself in his usual alley, he had dragged himself, crab-like, along the pavement to the house so that he had scraped hands and knees on top of everything else.

"Professor?" someone asked, their voice bleary, and Severus looked up to see Potter standing over him. He was still dressed and there was a lamp on in the front room that Severus hadn't registered before. Damn the boy, Severus thought. He was meant to be in bed, not wide awake and watching him writhe in pain, "Are you hurt?"

"No, Potter, I am in ample condition," Severus hissed as he attempted to push himself to his feet, "Obviously."

He managed to use the wall to heave himself to a standing position but he had to allow his shoulder to fall against the brick to stop himself from sliding down to the floor. Potter was watching him awkwardly, rumpling his already messy hair.

"Get to bed, boy," Severus managed to say, glaring at Potter and, thankfully, the boy listened and retreated.

Severus waited until he heard the spare bedroom door close before he groaned, his head dropping to the doorframe.

_Oh, Lily_, he thought, _your son will honestly be the death of me_.

Weakly, Severus propelled himself into the front room and sank into his armchair. It was still warm and Severus realised that Potter had been sitting in it. Cursing the boy, Severus loosened his robes and Summoned a Strengthening Solution and a Pain Relieving potion from his desk, pouring the first down his throat without even thinking about it before uncapping the second vial to gulp down the pink liquid.

He remained in his chair, allowing the potions to take effect as the pain became less agonizing and more like dull throbbing. Severus pushed some strands of black hair away from his sallow face, closing his eyes and focussing on his Occlumency shields again. Whenever the Dark Lord probed his mind Severus was always left feeling worse for wear and it was more difficult to snap the shields back into place.

When he next opened his eyes, he could smell toast in the kitchen and he could see the dust casting the sunlight in the hallway. It took a moment for Severus to recall what had happened before he sat bolt upright as memories hit him. The most pressing matter was that Potter was in his house and, presumably, cooking in Severus' kitchen. Then there was the fact that Potter had found him sprawled on the floor and opened the curtains in his house to let the sunlight in.

Severus pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the way his body felt like it was being prodded with white hot pokers. A blanket fell to the floor as Severus stiffly made his way through to the kitchen, silently cursing both the Dark Lord and Potter. The boy had had the audacity to _cover Severus up _like a child which meant he had seen Severus asleep.

In the kitchen, Harry was buttering toast on a plate whilst a mug of coffee was sat on the table. When Severus entered, the boy's head snapped up and he immediately looked considerably less cheerful.

"What," Severus asked quietly, "Are you doing, Potter?"

"I thought coffee might bring you round, Sir," Potter said, placing the plate on the table, "'S nearly eleven O'clock and I thought... I thought that..."

"That the Dark Lord had killed me and mercifully removed me from your life?" Severus suggested silkily, sitting down at the table and reaching for the coffee despite his internal protests. As long as it wasn't as bad as Potter's tea, he would take it because it felt like his head had been stuffed with cotton wool, "Terribly sorry, Potter, but that's not the case."

Awkwardly, the boy placed the plate of toast before Severus and the Potions Master found himself oddly grateful because his stomach was rumbling. But he only grunted his thanks, biting into the toast without looking at Potter.

For a moment, the boy hovered around him but then he took the chair opposite Severus and absently rubbed his scar. Severus noted this with a frown, wondering if it was actually hurting or if it was just a reflex. He didn't comment, however, because he found that he was weary to the bone and throbbing all over.

"Potter," he found himself saying as he sipped the strong coffee, "I need you to go to my lab and fetch me a Pain Relieving Potion and a Strengthening Solution from the bench. They're both labelled. Touch anything else and I will not hesitate to have you gutting frogs and pickling their ovaries until we return to school."

Potter nodded and walked to the door that Severus was pointing to. He could hear the boy moving down the creaky stairs as he focussed on his toast and coffee. He didn't want to admit it, and he would certainly never tell Potter, that it was just what he had needed then.

Within a few minutes, Harry was back with the two vials in his hands. Severus gulped them down quickly, and then fixed his gaze on the boy.

"Right, Potter," he said as he pushed the plate away, "We have things to discuss. Namely the rules whilst you are living with me."

The boy slumped down into the chair, looking more than a little like his father at that moment. Severus glared at him before flicking his wand to send the plate flying to the sink, where the sponge began to wash it.

"I know we went over the basic rules—which you have already struggled to deal with," Severus added with a dour glance at the boy, "But we need to discuss further. As you know, I have to pretend to serve the Dark Lord to—"

"Why do you call him the Dark Lord?" Potter cut in, riding over Severus and the Potions Master found himself gritting his teeth firmly together.

"_Respect_, Potter," Severus told him in a quiet, dangerous voice, "I will not have you interrupting me as you see fit. And I refer to him as the Dark Lord because all Death Eaters do and I have to protect my position. Do you realise what would happen to me if I was discovered to be a spy?"

"No, Sir," Potter muttered, looking away.

"I would be killed," Severus told him, "And then the Headmaster would have no inside information and you would be in a bad position, wouldn't you? Now, as I was saying, I have to attend meetings. When there are meetings like this, you will remain in your bedroom. And by your bedroom, I mean _your bedroom_. I do not want to arrive home to find you down here again because I will take your broomstick and use it to light a fire. Am I clear?"

Potter nodded mutely, but Severus saw anger flash through his eyes at this threat. But the boy was quiet, so Severus carried on regardless.

"My Potions Lab, like my bedroom is off limits," he said, reciting the rules as though they were in a list, "You will go nowhere near Wizarding areas—when we need to, I will accompany you to Diagon Alley—and I will come with you to your hearing."

"Won't that look odd, Sir?" Potter asked him, meeting his gaze for a moment, "I mean, people will wonder why I'm with you, won't they?"

"Well, they will just have to wonder," Severus snapped, "I don't want you wandering around the Ministry when the Dark Lord is on the warpath already."

"Voldemort's angry?" the boy asked, suddenly interested as he leaned in, "Why?"

"Potter, if you think that I am going to tell you _that_, I wonder if you have been in my class for the last four years. You are constantly sticking your nose in business that doesn't concern you and I will _not_ allow it. You have to involve yourself in everything—it's no wonder the Dark Lord targets you!" Severus slammed his hand down to accompany the statement and Potter sat back, obviously irritated. "Now, I need to go and brew some Potions. You can work on your summer assignments and if, by some miracle you have completed them, you can read some books. Merlin knows, you need to get a better grasp on Potions before you and Mr Weasley blow up my classroom."

He rose to his feet and moved towards his lab without waiting for the boy to answer him. If it hadn't been for the thought of Lily, laughing as they sat beside the lake, Severus would have returned the boy to Dumbledore as soon as he had woken up that morning. But he was Lily's son, and he had her eyes. Severus couldn't refuse this.

Angrily, Severus slammed the door before he descended to the lab with a face like thunder. It would be so much bloody easier if Potter wasn't the image of his father.

* * *

><p>Severus wasn't sure why, but the next few days passed with surprising ease. Potter didn't roam through his house or poke through his possessions and his invisibility cloak remained folded in Severus' desk drawer. In fact, Severus only really saw him at meal times and the boy would stand and wash and dry all the dishes before retreating to his room.<p>

The night before the hearing, Severus rapped on the boy's bedroom door and entered without waiting for an answer. Potter was sprawled on the floor, his legs splayed as he flipped through a thick Quidditch book.

"I assume you've got clean clothes for tomorrow," he said coldly, looking down at the boy. Harry looked more like a six year old than a sixteen year old sometimes, and it made Severus uncomfortable around him.

"Yes, Professor," the boy said, pushing himself to his feet and pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Very well, Potter," Severus said, flicking his wand to dim the lights in the bedroom, "Go to bed. We have an early start tomorrow, because Arthur Weasley is insisting on accompanying us to your hearing and we have to use the infernal Muggle entrance."

Severus swept out of the room before the boy could reply and waited until he heard the sounds of Potter climbing into bed before retreating to his own room. It took Severus a long time to fall asleep because the hearing was hanging over him and he genuinely did not know if the boy would get off or not. And, even worse, he didn't know why he cared.

* * *

><p>The next day, Harry stumbled into the kitchen looking like he had barely slept. Severus was already dressed and waiting, standing over the boy as he ate with his arms folded across his chest. He couldn't help but notice the way Potter nervously twitched and moved restlessly in his seat as he played with his breakfast but he chose not to comment on it.<p>

"Come along, Potter," he finally snapped, growing tired of waiting, "If you are not going to transfer that to your mouth, let's go. We don't want to be late to your hearing."

He didn't protest as Severus led the way out of the house and through the wards, miserably trailing behind the Potions Master. Severus felt exposed with the boy at his side as he marched him through the streets and down the alley, where he offered his arm to Potter. Harry didn't protest this time, gripping the proffered forearm tightly as Severus spun sharply on the spot.

They Apparated to the phone box that would lead them to the Ministry and Severus had the ordeal of cramming himself inside the enclosed space with the boy. He was keen to push Harry out of the phone box and into the atrium before shepherding him through security checks and to Arthur Weasley's cupboard.

"You call this an office?" he asked disdainfully, standing in the doorway because there simply wasn't enough room for both him, Harry and Arthur to all be inside.

"Nervous, Harry?" Arthur asked, ignoring Severus's comment as he focussed on the boy. Potter only nodded, nervously adjusting the shirt he was wearing.

Severus was about to comment on this, to snap at the boy and tell him to stop fidgeting, when Perkins came rushing in. He was out of breath and he ran his hands through his fluffy white hair as Severus stepped outside of the office, readying himself to snap at the old man.

"Arthur," Perkins finally wheezed out, "They've changed the time of the boy's hearing! It starts at eight O'clock in old Courtroom Ten..."

Severus cursed under his breath as Arthur and Harry burst out of the office before Perkins could even finish his sentence. Severus was about to stride in the direction of the old courtrooms with them when he heard the familiar drawl of Lucius Malfoy. For a moment he didn't believe it, but then he saw the silver blonde hair and the pointed chin that made Lucius stand out in a crowd. He cursed again as Lucius' gaze fell on him before the man made to come over. He needed to think of a plausible reason to be at the Ministry, to explain himself, because the last thing he needed was the suspicions of the Dark Lord. If anyone lost faith in Severus, it wasn't just his neck on the line anymore.

"Severus," Lucius called out, his voice cold, "What brings you here?"

* * *

><p><strong>Authors Notes: <strong>I am so sorry for the delay, everyone. I hope some of you are still interested, and please leave a review to let me know if you are and what you thought!


	6. The Hearing

**Authors Notes:** So, it's been a while, but I will never abandon this fic! I promise that. It might have breaks between but I will never give up. Thank you so much for your continued support, it means so much. In the meantime, please review and let me know if you're enjoying it, if you're still interested, and if there's anything you'd like to see in coming chapters. I love hearing what you all think!

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><p><strong>Never Again<br>**_Chapter Five—- The Hearing_

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><p>Harry fidgeted in the uncomfortable chair he was seated in, warily watching the chains in case they bound him as he had seem them do to Barty Crouch in the Pensieve. The Wizengamot were murmuring around him, the whispers sounding like a wind, and he reached up to fiddle with the button on his shirt. He was finding it was hard to breathe in the musty courtroom.<p>

The room was old, apparently rarely used and he didn't understand why there were so many people—about fifty of them—staring down at him and talking about him in lowered voices. Most were garbed solemnly in black but there was one woman, who bore more resemblance to a toad than a human, clothed in pink with a black bow sitting on her mousy hair. She stared down at Harry with a cold, almost victorious, gleam in her bulging eyes. Harry looked away, deciding that an itchy jumper with an embroidered kitten on the front wouldn't look out of place on her.

_Where's Dumbledore?_ He wondered, jiggling his legs as he waited. He looked down at his battered trainers, where the sole was peeling away from the shoe. _Where's Snape_?

They had lost the Potion's Master on the sprint down to the old courtrooms and Harry wasn't sure if Snape would be annoyed or not. In the strangest way, he actually missed Snape lurking close to him because at least having him near meant Harry felt slightly safer. Snape would know what to do if something went wrong and Harry would bet that something would go wrong at this hearing. He just wanted it all to be over with so that he could hopefully return to Grimmauld Place and see his friends and godfather and the Weasleys.

The toad-like woman was still watching him as Harry continued to shift uncomfortably and then Fudge rose from his seat. Harry saw Percy Weasley behind him, clutching a sheaf of parchment with a dripping quill poised to write. Harry could remember Percy charging off at the Quidditch World Cup to help the Muggles being taunted by the Death Eaters and Harry wondered what had happened to him, when he had turned his back on his family. Anger spiked through Harry. Percy was lucky to _have _a family.

Percy didn't even glance at Harry, much to Harry's annoyance, but if he did he would have seen the fierce glare Harry sent in his direction.

"We cannot wait around any longer," Fudge announced, "For Dumbledore or for anyone else. We waited long enough for Potter to show up and we all have more important things to be doing than running around after the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry remained silent, biting his tongue. _It's not worth losing your wand over_, he reminded himself as he struggled to swallow the comments he wanted to return.

"Disciplinary hearing of the twelfth of August in offences committed by Harry James Potter, resident of Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic—"

Panic seized Harry completely as he gripped the hard wooden handles, completely alone with fear growing in his stomach. But he thrust his chin into the air nonetheless, aware of the many pairs of eyes that watched his every movement. He would have to do it alone—he had done worse alone, he had been alone when he faced Voldemort and he could do _this_.

* * *

><p>Severus turned to face Lucius slowly, keeping his face blank and closed off. Draco was nowhere in sight, which was more of a blessing, but Lucius didn't seem to be in much of a hurry as he approached. He was dressed in heavy grey silk robes with his cane in his hand and his long blonde hair pulled back from his face, the ghost of a self-satisfied smile at his lips. His eyes appraised Severus as he stood, rooted to the spot.<p>

"What are you doing here?" Lucius repeated, his long pale fingers curling around the cane as he drew level with Severus.

"Dumbledore required my presence at Potter's trial," Severus said smoothly, despite the panic that raged through him, "And what brings you here, Lucius?"

"On my way to a meeting with the Minister but I'm slightly early," Lucius said, the smirk spreading fully across his pointed face, "I'll walk down to the Courtrooms with you, Severus. Rather than waiting outside Fudge's office, a certain _friend_ of ours asked me to find out what will become of Patronus Potter."

Severus only inclined his head in response before beginning to stride down the corridor. He wanted to be annoyed at Potter for rushing off with Arthur Weasley, leaving Severus trapped with Malfoy, but he was more concerned for the fact that Potter was off in the depths of the Ministry whilst Death Eaters on the Dark Lord's orders roamed freely around. The Boy was stupidly good at getting himself into trouble.

Lucius, unfazed by the silence, followed Severus into one of the golden-grilled lifts whilst filling the space between them with news that was passed in a low voice.

"He's absolutely fuming with Goyle; it's the second meeting he's missed. Keeps talking about getting Bella and the other 'faithful' ones out of—" the lift slowed to stop on one of the lower levels and Lucius raised his voice whilst quickly changing the subject, "Draco is very well, he's having friends stay at the Manor this summer and they were going to watch a Quidditch match today. Top-box seats, of course."

Severus nodded as several of the wizards who had entered the lift looked disgustedly at Lucius. Malfoy was not deterred, however, as he sneered down on them until they reached the Department of Mysteries. They left the lift together but Severus paused and looked and Lucius.

"Dumbledore's keeping me on hand as a second Witness for the Defence," he said easily, "There's a chance I'll be called in and I'm certain that the infernal Arthur Weasley will be hovering outside. It might be best if I go down alone, lest your presence raises alarm bells for the Order."

Lucius looked at Severus for a long moment before: "Why does Dumbledore want _you _to be a Witness? He knows you hate the boy and all Gryffindors and the Wizengamot will know it too. Maybe the old man has truly lost it."

"He doesn't want Fudge to accuse McGonagall of favouring her own lions," Severus said swiftly, his tone icy cold, "I cannot begin to fathom his reasoning but I have to defend the boy for my own credibility. Until we next meet, Lucius."

He nodded one final time to Lucius and swept down the bare corridor and down the steps to the dungeon-like corridor that led to the Courtrooms, leaving Malfoy behind him. He could see Arthur Weasley bobbing nervously outside Courtroom Ten and, as he approached, the anxiety on his face easy to read.

"How long has it been going on?" Severus asked as he drew level with the man and Arthur looked down at a dented pocket watch which had seen better days.

"Ten minutes," he replied, "Harry's in there but Dumbledore isn't here, Severus. Harry's in there alone."

Severus cursed internally as he looked at the thick wooden door, thinking of Potter in there by himself. He was probably terrified but hiding it and he knew why this had happened. Fudge didn't want Albus to be able to get Potter off the charge and so he had changed the times, meaning Harry was left to fight his way through a trial he had no hope of winning alone. And now, as much as he hated to admit it, Severus was fearful for the boy, too.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Severus stepped towards the door with a hand outstretched.

"Where are you going?" Arthur asked as Severus wrapped his palm around the iron door handle and Severus looked over his shoulder, determined that no-one should know he was actually concerned for Potter's welfare.

"I'm a Witness for Potter's Defence," he answered carefully before throwing the courtroom door open and sweeping inside, his robes flying out impressively.

Cornelius Fudge had been speaking but he had fallen silent a Severus' arrival, gaping down from the dais on which he stood. Potter was sat in one of the chained chairs looking pale and worried but once he saw Severus he looked visibly relieved. Severus chose not to think about that as he flicked his wand to conjure a black hard-backed chair for himself, sitting down on Potter's right hand side.

"What in the bloody blazes are you doing here, Snape?" Fudge demanded, turning a shade of purple that Severus had never seen him go before, "This is a closed hearing, you can't just waltz in!"

"My apologies for my lateness," Severus said in his most silky voice, "It seems that you have been unsuccessful in getting the changed time of the Hearing to us, Minister. We have both been late."

Fudge spluttered as Dolores Umbridge looked on, livid. Severus fixed his dark scowl on her, remembering her all too well, before turning back to Fudge, who seemed to be trying to pull some words together.

"But what are you doing?" Fudge finally asked as the Wizengamot looked on, "Why are you here, at Potter's hearing?"

"Albus asked me to be a Defence Witness," Severus told him, repeating his earlier lie so it almost sounded truthful to him, "He felt I would be less biased than Minerva and, as he couldn't make the changed time due to short notice, he sent me instead."

Fudge gaped at him, looking like he might argue, but then he let it pass and turned back to Harry. To Potter's credit, the boy sat up straighter and met the Minister's glare rather than sinking into the ground but Severus had a feeling it was more Gryffindor bravado than actual courage. Nevertheless, he was pleased that Potter wasn't showing the Minister any weakness—but then he wondered what he was thinking, feeling _pleased_ with _Potter_.

"Anyway," Fudge said with a resentful glance at Severus, "As I was saying before Snape's interruption, it is unlikely—nearly _impossible_—that two Dementors should have been wandering around Surrey and just happened to come across the only Wizard in the area. This is a very well rehearsed story and I find it hard to believe that you can tell it with a straight face—"

"If I could interrupt," Severus cut in smoothly, "All Dementors are supposedly under Ministry control, are they not? In Azkaban?" At Fudge's short nod, he continued, "And so the Ministry is hardly likely to own up and admit to two rogue Dementors in Southern England and would, surely, be prepared to do anything to discredit a witness to this..._disloyalty._"

Severus watched Fudge's face flush once again and a few murmurs broke out amongst the members of the Wizengamot. Harry had flashed Severus a grateful glance but Severus had ignored it, too busy glancing at the witches and wizards around them. It appeared, unbelievably, that Potter was being tried by the entire Wizengamot. All for the Boy-Who-Lived, Severus thought with an irritated sigh.

Silence fell when Severus cleared his throat once more.

"In addition to that point," he continued, his voice carrying, "I have another, however, one that is more probable than escaped Dementors. The two Dementors that attacked Potter and his cousin were _ordered_ there by someone in the Ministry, someone who wanted to see Harry in this courtroom, and that person is why we are all sitting here today."

Several members of the Wizengamot shifted uneasily on the benches as Fudge looked particularly outraged. Potter threw a look at Severus that he ignored, knowing what was coming next—he knew from Dolores Umbridge's Werewolf legislation, that had made it exceedingly difficult for Remus Lupin to get a job, that she was a nasty piece of work and he could tell from the look on her toad-like face that she was readying herself to argue back.

She stood up, though it did little to help her height, with a simpering smile down at the two of them, smoothing down her clothes as her eyes bulged.

"Forgive me, Professor Snape," she said sweetly in her girly voice, "But I hardly think that you are in a position to speculate so wildly about Ministry affairs since you have absolutely no role in the Wizengamot or the Ministry. No Dementors were away from Azkaban that night and it is clear that Mr. Potter is making them up to cover for his use of underage magic."

"What use could Potter possibly have for summoning a Patronus charm then?" Severus asked in his most dangerous voice, raising one dark eyebrow, "It's hardly a spell you'd use to show a Muggle. It's so draining you don't even use one without cause and, in my experience, at Potter's tender age it's difficult to produce one in a street. He must have felt threatened by _something_."

Umbridge opened her mouth to retort but Fudge, having regained some of his composure, got there first. His cheeks were still tinged with pink but he didn't look as openly furious as he had a few minutes before.

"Enough, enough! Why Potter cast the charm is beside the point," he snapped, casting a dour look at Severus, "We need to decide what to do about it."

"I think you'll find, _Minister_," Severus said, spitting Fudge's title with particular venom, "Why Potter cast the charm has _everything _to do with this. Surely, if he were to be his usual arrogant self, and wanted to show off to his Muggle cousin, he would cast a simple levitation charm which is far less likely to go wrong and far less draining than a corporeal Patronus. Potter had a reason for casting a Patronus charm and, according to Ministry regulations and a clause in the Law, this excuses him in the act."

Severus didn't miss the glance exchanged between the Minister and his Senior Undersecretary before Fudge looked back down at them, this time focussing all of his attention on Harry. He watched Potter, too, keeping his dark gaze locked on the boy.

"Mr. Potter," Fudge said imperiously, "Do you still maintain your fictional tale of these Dementors being in Surrey?"

"Yes, because it's not a story," Potter snapped back and Severus could almost see him bristle. He was reminded of one of the many altercations he and Potter had had over the years as Potter continued, "There were two Dementors that came after me and my cousin!"

"Yes, yes, Potter, we've heard," Fudge said shortly before turning to the Umbridge, "Anything else?"

"Yes," Umbridge replied primly, standing up and Severus bit back the sarcastic comment that was at the tip of his tongue, "Mr. Potter, lying will not be tolerated at Hogwarts this year."

"I'm not lying!" Potter burst out furiously and Severus narrowed his eyes at Umbridge.

"It's none the Ministry's business what happens within Hogwarts," he said icily, cursing Albus for not being here and cursing Umbridge for being so bent of seeing Potter expelled, "Also, Dolores, can you still read?"

"Don't insult the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister!" Fudge roared, jabbing a finger in Severus' direction but Severus didn't even flinch.

"My _apologies_," Severus said frostily, curling his lip, "I was merely curious, considering that neither the, ah, _Senior Undersecretary_ nor yourself seems able to grasp the Ministry Protocol. Both of you have overlooked several important Ministry Laws over the course of this Disciplinary Hearing in addition to convening the entire Wizengamot over a simple matter of Underage Magic. Is this how the Ministry is being run nowadays?"

Fudge blustered for a moment before Severus cut in again, pressing his long fingertips together.

"All we can do is await your judgement," he said calmly, "But, I'd just like to remind the Wizengamot, that Potter has no criminal record and the Headmaster speaks very highly of him."

Several members of the Wizengamot turned to each other to mutter then but Fudge had leapt to his feet again. Severus would have found it mildly amusing if he wasn't so irritated by the whole affair and Fudge's determination to have Potter thrown out of Hogwarts.

"No criminal record?" he sputtered as Potter leant towards Severus, "He _blew up his aunt_!"

"His emotions got the better of him," Severus said, "It's not unheard of, especially in children raised by Muggles. In fact, it's very common. No-one charged Potter at the time either and so I repeat—no criminal record. As I said earlier, we shall await your judgement."

Severus leant back, crossing his legs and watching the Wizengamot around them break out into whispers. Potter was staring down at his knees—really, the boy was far, far too thin—and Severus found that he couldn't blame him. He looked up to see Fudge whispering with two men as Umbridge looked on and found that he was wishing for them to hurry up and judge, for both his and Potter's sakes.

"All those in favour of clearing the accused of all charges?" a woman with a monocle and a booming voice called, silencing the courtroom. Severus was sure he recognised her from somewhere, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Most of the Wizengamot raised their hands, averting their eyes from Fudge who had flushed again. Umbridge was looking more toad-like than ever due to the furious expression on her squashed face and Severus fought down the urge to smile.

"And all those in favour of conviction?" the same woman asked.

About five people raised their hands, Fudge and Umbridge amongst them. Severus couldn't see the faces of the other three but they seemed to be all sitting together, a little way out from the rest of the Wizengamot. Fudge looked livid, as though he had been forced to drink something particularly nasty as he spoke once more.

"Fine, _fine_," he snapped, throwing his hands up and shaking his head angrily, "Cleared of all charges. Snape, Potter, you can leave."

Severus rose swiftly, ignoring the relief that was thrumming through him and making his heart hammer against his ribs. He looked down at Potter, who was still seated and looking rather shell shocked by all that had just occurred.

"Come along, Potter," Severus instructed and he scrambled to his feet immediately, walking close to Severus' side as they made their way towards the door, "I hope you can see what powerful enemies you have made."

Potter only nodded as they left the dark courtroom to where Arthur Weasley was waiting in the corridor, his face pale and strained. He straightened up when Harry and Severus emerged, looking slightly startled at how close the boy was to Severus' side. And even Severus was surprised at how little he minded Harry being this close to him.

"Cleared," Potter announced, "Of all charges."

Arthur swept Harry into a hug as Severus let out an irritated hiss, making them begin to move along the corridor. Potter still lingered close to Severus, however.

"He was very lucky," Severus said abruptly, "He was tried by the whole Wizengamot and Fudge was hell bent on having him convicted. Potter is just lucky he inherited the ability to worm out of difficult situations."

"I'll have to go and tell Molly," Arthur said happily, clapping Harry on the shoulder again, "And Sirius. He's been going wild with worry about you. Well done, Harry, I _knew_ they wouldn't find you guilty!"

Arthur gave Harry one more brief hug before hurrying off. Severus placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and steered him towards the lifts that were reserved for the cleaners on the off chance he ran into Lucius Malfoy again. Oddly enough, Potter didn't complain about this manhandling of him and went without a word, only speaking once they were travelling up towards the Atrium.

"Thank you for coming in and defending me, Sir," he said, looking down at his worn trainers again, "I'd be convicted without you."

"It was no trouble, Potter," Severus said briskly, a little taken aback at Potter's sincere thanks but choosing to hide it, "I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be delighted to hear you've been cleared."

Potter didn't reply to this and Severus realised that the Headmaster's absence must have cut him more deeply than he had initially realised. He actually felt like comforting the boy but shook himself out of it. He had already decided what they were doing that afternoon and that decision had him questioning his sanity enough without finding himself comforting Potter.

"Sir," the boy said suddenly, looking at him and Severus was struck with how very like Lily he looked, "If we're going to be together for the rest of the summer could you... maybe call me Harry? Please?"

Severus stared down, taken aback. He had never even thought about addressing him differently. Harry had stepped in to fill the void James Potter had left and he had never even considered calling him by his first name. He tried to think about it but there wasn't really anything to consider with the boy looking up at him with wide green eyes that were just like Lily's.

"Yes," he said carefully, "I could do that, P—Harry."

"Thanks, Sir," Potter—_Harry_—told him with a grin and Severus nodded as the doors smoothly slid open to reveal the Atrium. Keeping an eye of Harry, Severus led the way though the crowds of people and out onto the Muggle streets, feeling a little more relaxed away from the Wizarding world.

"Alright, Harry," he said, the boy's name still not quite right on his tongue, "We're going shopping. I refuse to have you looking like that in my house."

Harry looked at him, clearly trying to establish if he was joking or not, but Severus had held out his arm for Harry to grasp. Once he felt the boy grip him tightly about the elbow, he turned sharply and Apparated them to a dark alley, just off Oxford Street. He caught Harry as the boy pitched forwards and waited for his face to regain some colour before leading him out of the alleyway and onto the busy street, keeping one hand on Harry's arm.

"I don't have any Muggle money, Sir," Harry muttered as they navigated a group of Muggle girls with large shopping bags, "Wouldn't we be better going to Diagon Alley?"

"The only trip you and I will be making to Diagon Alley will be to purchase your school supplies," Severus informed him, slowing down outside a shop window to peer at the t-shirt on the mannequin, "It's far too dangerous and for now you only need Muggle clothes. Your robes can wait. As for money, I will purchase them."

Harry was shocked into silence but then he recovered as Severus made to enter the shop.

"Sir, I couldn't ask you to buy me things," he said, clearly sounding horrified, "It's...I'm a Gryffindor!"

Severus raised an eyebrow calmly, his hand on the glass door as he took in the boy. He didn't seem able to understand Severus' actions and Severus didn't want to explain to Harry that he knew what it was like to have ill-fitting, used clothes. He didn't want to explain that he wanted Harry to understand that he should be looked after. Just because his parents were dead, his godfather was an escaped criminal, and the weight of the Wizarding world rested on his shoulders didn't mean he should suffer for it.

"Your House has nothing to do with this. Has anyone actually taken you shopping, Potter?" he asked on impulse, "And bought you your own things? Aside from Hogwarts items? I can't imagine shopping with Hagrid could be much like _shopping_."

"No, Sir," Harry muttered, turning scarlet and Severus didn't answer, opening the door and gesturing Harry inside.

"Well, today will be a learning curve for both of us then," he said as Harry hovered nervously near a display of jeans in a variety of colours.

Severus found himself being firm with Harry, ensuring he had three pairs of jeans—two pairs blue, one pair black—and a handful of t-shirts in all different colours, as well as jumpers, a new jacket, a few zip up tops, socks, underwear and new trainers. He even found himself buying Harry a sensible pair of black leather shoes to wear in school, promising himself to put a protection spell on them later. All of the shopping took three hours, Severus stopping to buy Harry and himself a grilled ham and cheese sandwich for lunch at one O'clock from an upmarket Muggle cafe.

Neither of them spoke much, Harry being too overwhelmed by the trip and Severus allowing him to experience it whilst he had time with his own thoughts. Harry had been _good_ so far—a quality he would never have expected in James Potter's son—and it felt rather pleasant to have someone to care for. Severus was used to looking after his Slytherins at school but overseeing Harry on a day-to-day basis made him feel needed, like he had a purpose, a role to play rather than just Dumbledore's spy.

He was enjoying being needed, stupidly enough, and it was nice to see Harry's face light up at the prospect of something brand new for himself.

And so he even treated Harry to three fiction books and four videos that he could watch on the old television and VCR at Spinner's End. Harry thanked him all the way back to the alley where Severus Apparated them to Cokeworth until Severus snapped at him that he would take them back if the boy didn't be _quiet_.

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><p>After overseeing Harry putting his clothes away, Severus left him for a time to prepare dinner. He was surprised to find Harry coming down early to help him set the table and slice bread to go with the spaghetti Severus was cooking.<p>

"Sir, can I ask a question?" Harry asked as he placed a jug of water in the centre of the scrubbed wooden table, continuing once he saw Severus' nod of approval, "Why's your house so dark?"

Severus looked around the kitchen as the stained walls and grey tiles. He didn't really know, in all honesty—it had always been like that and he had never thought to change it. Harry was clearly wondering if he had overstepped the mark, hovering nearby as Severus dished up dinner and carried it over to the table with anxiety written all over his face.

"Sit," he ordered and Harry dropped into a seat, "Eat. You're too thin. And my house has always been this way, I spend too much time at Hogwarts to notice."

Harry shovelled a forkful of food into his mouth and, after chewing thoughtfully and washing it down with a gulp of water, he cleared his throat.

"Why don't you decorate?" he suggested.

Severus looked at him over his own water glass, wondering when the boy had gotten so comfortable he felt that he could make suggestions. Then, he realised, it was the sort of thing Lily would have asked. James Potter would have sneered at his house but Lily would have suggested something practical. Nevertheless, he couldn't resist making the boy squirm.

"Are you implying that my home is not to your taste, boy?" he asked, watching Harry's face take on a horrified expression before chuckling slightly. Harry started at this, and Severus realised the boy had probably never even seen him smile before and hearing Severus Snape laugh must have been as big a shock as finding out he was a Wizard. "Yes, I suppose it could do with decorating, it's been a while and it could definitely use a lick of paint. Maybe we could look into it tomorrow. Tonight you will have an early night and I will try to get hold of Albus."

Harry nodded and, after a few minutes, came the question Severus had been waiting for.

"He didn't come to the hearing," Harry said softly, starting to push his pasta around his plate, "Why? Did I—"

"I'm sure something just came up," Severus said simply, wondering why he didn't believe that himself. But he didn't want to worry Harry, especially when he had felt himself come to terms much better with looking after the boy. In fact, he wasn't even annoyed at sharing a house with him any more and he felt the desire to protect Harry from anything that might upset him, "And we can ask him later."

Harry disappeared upstairs after he had done the dishes and Severus Flooed Albus' office to find it empty aside from his Phoenix and odd items. This was most unlike Albus and Severus was suspicious and slightly concerned. He spent the evening flipping through a book with a cup of tea, occasionally trying to get hold of Albus by Floo again, until nine O'clock, when he went to check on Harry. The boy was in bed, squinting at one of his new books. When Severus stepped into the room, he looked up sleepily.

"You need to go to sleep," Severus said firmly, watching Harry bookmark his place and take his glasses off, placing them both on his bedside table with his wand, "When we decorate, we will start in here, I think. Sleep well, P—Harry."

"Night, Sir," Harry mumbled into his pillow, half-asleep already.

Severus paused at the doorway before flicking his wand to turn the light off and descending down the stairs. He was just in the kitchen making another cup of tea when he heard the unmistakeable sound of someone Flooing into his front room.

He nearly dropped the cup in his hurry to find his uninvited guest, his wand drawn as panic overtook him but he found Albus sitting in an armchair with a serene expression on his face. Severus slowly lowered his wand, his heart in his throat as he leant his shoulder against the door frame, waiting for his breathing rate to return to normal.

"Excellent job on getting Harry cleared of all charges, Severus," Albus said, eyeing Severus over the top of his half-moon spectacles, "I couldn't have done it better myself."

"Where _were _you, Albus?" Severus demanded immediately, "You were lucky I stepped in at the Ministry as a Witness and Harry, _your_ precious Boy-Who-Live, is upstairs wondering why you didn't show up! And I know it wasn't because you missed the notice of the changed time, so don't lie to me."

"I knew you would step in, dear boy," Albus said, "I came to talk to you about Harry, however. I was very touched by your concern for the boy, becoming his advocate on him not returning to the Dursleys, however he will have to go back, Severus. I didn't want to say in front of him but his Mother's love makes the Blood Wards—"

"Damn the Blood Wards," Severus said coldly, folding his arms and glaring, "You are not sending him back. He's in no state to be neglected again, Albus, I've been having to dose him with Nutrient Potion and Dreamless Sleep without him knowing because he's too thin and has nightmares. The only thing is, I'm going to have to bring him off the Dreamless Sleep soon because it's addicting, so we're going to have to fine tune his Occlumency skills and—"

"Severus," Albus interrupted, holding up a hand, "Whilst I understand your outrage, I fear you are overreacting. I spoke to Petunia and she says Harry has always been treated as her own son, that you must be mistaken. And I doubt she could treat her nephew so cruelly."

"You don't know Petunia Dursley," Severus snapped, pacing the floor, "She'd probably say anything to keep the money that comes with him for his upkeep. If your Boy-Who-Lived is so damn precious to you, Albus, _don't _send him back."

Albus looked like he might say something but a shout of pure terror ripped through the house, sending a spike of fear down Severus' spine and cutting off anything Albus might have said. All Severus' thoughts of Albus were thrown out the window, however, because Harry was shouting upstairs. Severus immediately turned on his heel and broke into a run, taking the stairs two at a time to Harry's room, cursing himself all the while.

In his concern over Albus, he had forgotten to dose Harry with Dreamless Sleep before he went to bed.

Harry was thrashing around in bed, having knocked his lamp, book, wand, glasses, and clock to the floor. He was pale with his dark hair clinging to his sweaty face, his scar burning against his pale skin.

Severus laid a hand to his forehead to find he was clammy and cold. At Severus' touch, Harry whimpered and draw back, still trapped in the depths of his nightmare. Severus swore under his breath as he knelt down beside the bed, casting a fierce look at Albus, who was stood at the foot of the bed.

"Aren't you going to help?" he asked as Harry flailed in his sleep again, nearly kicking the Headmaster.

"I can't," Albus said in a trembling voice that Severus had never heard him use, withdrawing slightly, "I can't, Severus, I—I see Voldemort in his eyes. I need to keep my distance even though I don't—I'll leave you."

"Albus, don't you—" Severus called as he watched Albus walk from the room, his shoulders slumped as though he was truly regretting his actions.

But Severus didn't have time to worry about the Headmaster then. Harry was in a state, unable to free himself from the nightmare, and that was Severus' first priority. He laid his hand back against Harry's forehead and tried to speak as calmly and as reassuringly as he could.

"Harry," he said, "Harry, listen to me. You're dreaming, Harry, I need you to come back to me. It's all just a dream, come on now. Wake up. You're safe here."

He kept talking, trying to sound as soothing as he possibly could, all the while marvelling at the worry that was consuming him. He hadn't meant to grow to care for the boy, especially in such a short space of time, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help caring for Harry.

Harry began to stop flailing and Severus gently shook him. Immediately, Harry forced himself upright, away from his pillows, panting heavily as though he had run a marathon. He blinked at Severus for about a second before throwing both of his arms around Severus' neck and pressing his damp, tear-stained face into Severus' robes.

For a moment, Severus was too shocked to move and remained kneeling, frozen. But then he tentatively reached out and wrapped his own arms around Harry's skinny frame, holding the boy close to him, in the first hug he had given or received since his fifth year at Hogwarts.

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><p><strong>Please, please leave a review. What did you all think?<strong>


	7. The Nightmares Return

**Authors Notes: **This chapter gave me quite a bit of trouble, to be honest, so I really hope you enjoy it! Please don't forget to review and let me know what you think! Also, I have a question for you guys to answer which I will put at the end of the chapter...

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><p><strong>Never Again<br>**_Chapter 6—- The Nightmares Return_

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><p>Severus wasn't sure how long he remained awkwardly crouched beside Harry's bed, his arms full of trembling teenage boy, but after a minute or so he allowed the stiffness to drain from his form as he held Harry gently, patting his back soothingly. Harry clung to him like a limpet, apparently having lost all sense of dignity, and that caused Severus to realise he was going to be there for a while. He pulled his wand from his robes and flicked it wordlessly, sending the lamp soaring onto the bedside cabinet once more, and switching itself on.<p>

The sudden brightness made Harry pull back, blinking, and Severus could see his face for the first time, taking in his red-rimmed eyes and swollen face. It was startling to see the golden Boy-Who-Lived reduced to a sniffing mess but Severus said nothing, simply rising to his feet and taking a seat on the edge of Harry's mattress as the boy wiped his eyes on the edge of his quilt.

"Deep breaths," he said firmly as it seemed Harry might be reaching hysteria, "Deep breaths, _slowly_. What was your nightmare about? The third task?"

To Severus' surprise, Harry shook his head before running his shaking hands over his face. Without really thinking about it, Severus withdrew a handkerchief from one of his inner pockets and handed it to Harry to wipe his face and blow his nose.

"Tell me," he instructed as Harry stared down at the handkerchief in his hand, "And wipe your eyes."

Harry obliged without fight, He looked a lot younger than the boy who was plastered over the papers, branded a liar. Severus wouldn't have believed this if he hadn't been with Harry to see it for himself but he didn't comment.

"It was... I was Voldemort," Harry said, keeping his eyes downcast and refusing to look at Severus, "I thought I was _me_ at first but then I saw the snake and my hands and I realised. I was at a meeting of a few Death Eater's—Lucius Malfoy was there and I was really, really angry. I don't know why but I was furious and I... tortured Malfoy. I kept the curse on him for ages and I enjoyed it—"

Harry's voice broke and Severus found himself placing a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing gently.

"Stay here," Severus instructed, rising suddenly from the bed and making for the bedroom door.

It seemed, however, that Harry had other ideas because he immediately climbed from his bed. Severus looked over his shoulder to see Harry stumbling to his feet and sighed. Instead of making Harry wait in his room, understanding how he didn't want to be left alone, Severus Summoned his quilts and handed them wordlessly to Harry before descending the stairs, Harry trailing behind.

Severus motioned for Harry to take a seat on an armchair and waited until the boy was seated with the blankets drawn around him before kneeling in front of the Fireplace. He pulled a hand of emerald Floo powder from the pouch and, after shooting Harry a warning look, tossed the powder into the grate.

"Malfoy Manner," Severus announced as he put his head into the flames and then he waited as the world spun around him, the feeling of his knees against solid ground appearing to be the only thing anchoring him down.

It was Narcissa Malfoy who was in the parlour at Malfoy Manner, dropping elegantly to her knees by the fire despite the late hour. As usual, she appeared aloof and distant, but there were also lines around her eyes that gave away the stress she was under. Severus glanced around the room but neither Draco nor Lucius were there.

"Is Lucius around?" he enquired and Narcissa raised a pale eyebrow at him.

"He has just returned from a meeting," she told him, her eyes flicking upwards, "He's... In a bad way. He will see you if it's something to do with—"

"No," Severus cut in, "It can wait. Thank you."

Before Narcissa could reply, Severus pulled his head out of the fireplace and muttered a Charm to block his Floo off for the night. He didn't need anyone bursting into his front room and finding Harry Potter there, especially not someone who would hand the boy over to Voldemort without a second thought.

Harry was still in the armchair when Severus stood up, brushing ash off the shoulders of his robes. He was blinking up at Severus with confusion clearly written on his face but he seemed unwilling to ask the question outright. Severus had a suspicion Harry didn't want to make the events real, that he was still hoping he might wake up and find it had been part of a particularly complex nightmare.

"It seems," Severus said as carefully as he could despite his own inner turmoil, "That your nightmare was not a dream, but a vision."

All colour drained out of Harry's face and he started in horror. Severus had never seen Harry quite so pale and he had certainly never seen his scar so red and raised. He could see the vivid redness through the ruffled mess of Harry's hair, something that he had never seen before.

Severus suddenly crossed the room in three swift strides and pushed Harry's tousled hair away from his forehead, placing two fingers beneath his chin so he could see the lightning-bolt shape better.

It was definitely agitated and, when Severus touched it, the scar seemed to split and a drop of blood blossomed at the surface and slid down towards Harry's nose. Severus brushed it away with his thumb as a fresh wave of panic rolled through him. This was not _normal_.

"Harry, stand up," he ordered in his calmest voice but Harry still had fear written on his face when he obeyed. Severus pulled another handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Harry. "Press this against your scar and follow me."

Severus walked quickly to the door to his Potions lab, throwing it wide open and motioning for Harry to come down with him. The familiar chill enveloped him as he marched down the stairs to basement level, lighting the torches with a wave of his wand and turning behind to see if Harry was in need of assistance.

"This is just like the dungeons at Hogwarts," Harry muttered behind him as Severus reached the bottom of the stairs.

"The dungeon is an ideal place to brew because of the temperature," Severus informed him, placing a hard-backed black chair in front of the long workstation and propelling Harry into it. Talking to Harry about simple things made him feel slightly more in control so that he could gather his thoughts together. "You should know this—or you would if you had _listened _in my class."

"Just because I didn't manage to brew properly wasn't to do with not _listening_," Harry replied and Severus was alarmed to notice the handkerchief Harry was holding to his scar was nearly covered in blood, "It was because I had something going on or Neville did something or Seamus or one of the Slytherin's pulled some kind of prank or—"

"Yes, yes," Severus snapped, peeling Harry's fingers away from the handkerchief and tossing it aside to examine the scar, "I expect better marks this year or we might have to—"

Severus cut himself off this time, becoming distracted by the weeping scar. He couldn't tell what had triggered profuse bleeding but he knew that it wasn't good and that he could ask _why_ after he had stopped it but an idea was already unfolding in his mind.

Slowly, carefully, Severus levelled his wand with Harry's scar and said, very clearly: "_Claudicatis_."

Nothing happened. If anything, more blood leaked out and Harry seemed to have become aware of the bleeding now. Complete panic was obvious in his green eyes as a droplet of blood ran down his nose and Harry brushed it away, looking at Severus with his mouth open, ready to ask a question.

The horror overtook Severus then. He didn't show it, remaining cold as he tried several more healing spells to no avail, knowing it was fruitless before he had even tried. A simple healing spell would be no help, a cursed wound like Harry's scar would need something strong and potent, a potion of some kind, but Severus knew that there wasn't one invented and tested by the Ministry. But there was no other option.

Cursing violently under his breath, Severus swept across the room and returned with a pot of paste. It was something he had been working on for over a year, a paste to help the victims of his own _Sectumsempra _spell, and it wasn't tested properly yet. It wasn't Ministry approved either, Severus still hadn't got round to sending the papers to the Office of Potions Inventions but Harry was bleeding badly and there was no other option. The risk, he reasoned, was minimal. He had used it before, on himself, and there had been no nasty side effects and he needed to stop the bleeding.

"Stay calm, Harry," he instructed in his best no-nonsense voice as he unscrewed the pot lid and dipped two fingers into the thick, blue paste, "This may sting."

As gently as he could, Severus slathered the cream onto Harry's forehead. Harry winced and the boy's mouth thinned but Harry said nothing and remained still as Severus waited, his dark gaze fixed on the area Harry's scar normally was. Although he was staring intently at the boy's forehead, he could see that Harry was trembling like a leaf and reached out to place one slim hand on the boys shoulder, reminding Harry that he wasn't alone. Harry's hand suddenly lifted to touch Severus' wrist and he hung on as though Severus was physically holding him together.

Slowly, the cream was absorbed by Harry's forehead and his skin shone through. His scar looked normal again, if a little redder than usual. But it wasn't open, bleeding or burning and so Severus allowed himself to be contented once he had cast several diagnostic spells on it, searching for any residual dark magic and found none.

"It's okay, Harry," he reassured the boy once he was satisfied the scar wouldn't being to bleed again, "It's alright now, your scar is fine."

"Why did that _happen_?" Harry asked, tentatively touching his scar with two fingers. Mercifully, the old wound didn't reopen again.

"I have a theory," Severus told him, motioning for Harry to stand, "But I'm still working on it. We can discuss that tomorrow. For now, you need sleep."

To his surprise, Harry shook his head firmly.

"I don't want to sleep," he said in a strained voice and Severus realised that the whole incident—the vision, the bleeding—had made Harry unwilling to allow himself to connect with Voldemort again. Severus could have kicked himself, it was obvious.

"Alright," Severus said, not picking Harry up on his tone and wondering if he had gone completely soft, "We shall have a cup of tea."

Harry nodded his consent to this plan and they left the basement together, Severus extinguishing the lights and sending Harry up the steps first. Whilst he boiled the water, Harry pulled two tea-cups from the cupboard and leant against the counter.

"What was that paste, Sir?" he asked as Severus dropped a teabag into each cup.

"It was a little something I invented," Severus replied but, upon seeing Harry's face, elaborated. "It's a salve, really, although I refer to it as a potion. It stops bleeding by forming a layer of skin over cursed wounds and it hasn't actually been Ministry tested yet so I must ask for your silence on the matter."

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied, watching as Severus busied himself with the tea kettle and milk, "Thank you, Sir."

"If you have asked for me to call you Harry," Severus said, levitating the two cups towards the front room, "I suppose we should find someone a little less formal for you to call me whilst we're here. However if Weasley comes up to me and tries it, you will both be picking frogs for a year."

He did offer Harry a small smirk that took the sting out of his words and the boy offered him a wan smile in return as he took a seat and accepted the blue cup that Severus directed to him.

"Now," Severus said once the sweet tea was coursing through him and giving him a surge of energy, "You asked me how this happened. I couldn't tell you why it definitely happened, this is just a theory, but I think that the strain of the vision and the force it took to pull you out of the Dark Lord's mind led to the curse on your scar reacting by releasing some dark magic that is left over from the moment he tried to kill you. Technically, this type of dark magic is locked away and is unable to be detected but _something _in your connection with the Dark Lord triggered it to be released. The bleeding was just your body's way of trying to get that magic out of you in order to protect you but, obviously, a cursed wound does not work like that. And then there's the fact you've been in contact with so much dark magic, you would have to fully bleed out for that magic to drain away. Blood magic is a ridiculously complex part of the Dark Arts."

Harry had grown steadily paler throughout his speech and Severus felt the urge to take back all his words but, at the same time, Harry needed to know these things. He was being set up to fight the most powerful dark wizard of all time—he couldn't go on without information like this. He was ridiculously under-prepared as it was.

"What do we do about it?" Harry asked quietly, studying the contents of his teacup intently.

"You put all your efforts into learning Occlumency," Severus told him firmly, "And I shall endeavour to be a better teacher than I have been in the past."

The small look Harry shot in his direction was enough for Severus to realise that Harry was still slightly hesitant. But there was no point in pushing the boy; he would trust Severus when he was ready. Severus realised, with a jolt, that he was prepared to wait for that moment.

"I assume you still do not wish to return to bed?" Severus asked, settling himself back against the cushions, "Some sleep would do you good, you know."

Harry shook his head firmly, setting his empty cup aside and pulling his knees to his chest. He was still draped under the blankets from his bed and, for the strangest reason, he reminded Severus of a small child.

"Very well," Severus said with a note of finality, "We shall sit here together. Why don't you move onto the sofa? Then, if you do drop off despite your intentions, you can lie down."

For a moment, Harry said nothing but then he unfurled his limbs and crossed the room to join Severus on the old couch. He sat at the opposite end, still wrapped up, but it was a start.

"W-Will you stay with me, Sir?" Harry asked in a hesitant voice, "If it's not too much to ask. I just feel—"

"I will," Severus cut him off, not wishing to make Harry feel awkward whilst feeling stupidly pleased Harry wanted him to stay. He wondered what was happening to him, and why he had been so blind to Harry in the past.

He sighed. Since both their dignities had been shredded to pieces, Severus decided that he may as well broach the topic he had been putting off.

"Harry, you do know that your Aunt and Uncle should never, ever have called you a freak, don't you?" Severus asked in the most conversational tone he was capable of, "You are _not_ a freak."

The conviction he spoke with startled himself as well as Harry and he briefly caught sight of the conflicted expression on Harry's face before the boy turned his head away.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said in the direction of the door.

There were a few minutes of silence where Severus watched the flames in the fireplace dance, his socked feet stretched out in front of him. The clock on the mantelpiece seemed to be ticking rather loudly in the quiet before Harry cleared his throat.

"Thank you, Sir," Harry said quietly, managing to look at Severus this time, "For everything. You know. The Hearing, staying with me, just... everything."

"You are more than welcome," Severus responded, equally as softly. Harry smiled, the corners of his lips just tugging upwards before he sank back comfortably, much like Severus had earlier.

When Severus turned to glance at Harry again, ten minutes later, Harry had dropped off and was fast asleep in the most uncomfortable angle Severus had ever seen. He was surprised, he had to admit, for he would never have expected sleep to come to Harry so easily but he reasoned that the ordeal must have taken it out of the boy. He had obviously hidden how stressful it had really been.

Silently, Severus rose and adjusted the boy as carefully as he could, shifting Harry so that he was lying fully on the couch. Harry adjusted himself as Severus moved him, rolling onto his side. Severus lifted his glasses off his face and tucked the blankets properly around him before stroking his hair without really thinking. He then sat down on the armchair, leaning his elbows on his knees, and watching the first signs of light bleed through the curtains.

His entire summer had changed. He was no longer aiming to convince Albus he would make a suitable Defence Against the Dark Arts or working out the Dark Lord's actions. He wanted to make Harry trust him, to give Harry someone to depend on. Harry needed someone to look out for his own interests, not for those of the entire Wizarding world, and Severus found himself wanting to do that for reasons he couldn't fathom. Maybe, just maybe, it was because he had spent five years thinking the worst of the boy and he wanted to make up for it. Maybe it was because Harry was so much more like Lily that Severus imagined.

But he knew, really, that it was because Harry reminded Severus of himself and that Harry was likeable when he wasn't breaking every school rule and risking his neck. And Harry just needed _someone_. Harry had shown that when he had reached out to Severus and hugged him, clinging to the person he felt would protect him. It all just demonstrated to Severus that Harry was a child in need and that was enough.

That was enough.

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><p>Just a short chapter, sorry for the wait! Next time, Severus confronts Albus about Harry's vision and Albus' reaction to it whilst Harry gets a letter off Ron...<p>

Now, I really need your help on something. I want to give HarHarry some kind of love interest, but I really cannot decide who it should be. So please, please, please tell me in a review who you think Harry would go well with! Ginny, or Hermione, or someone else?

Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, and favouriting. I appreciate everything so much and I hope this chapter didn't disappoint.


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